


It Will Bloom All the Same

by Anonymouscosmos



Series: In the Garden of Edun (har har) [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Eventual Smut, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Content - Freeform, Overdose, Slow Burn, Some Humor, and i reject your infodump dialogues nobody does that, another long tale i know, bethesda i reject your ending, companions are people too, creative liberty, danse loosens up a little, i keep accidentally falling in love with everyone, i reject your vision of the institute, if you love X6-88 this is the story for you, inter-companion romances, it was really hard not to write another Danse romance, its fine we're all fine here how are you, personal growth is sexy, surprisingly light on the angst, there are so many companions to write about please kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 53
Words: 204,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouscosmos/pseuds/Anonymouscosmos
Summary: She was maybe eight paces away when she heard a groan. She paused, her gaze darting about, seeking the source. She caught a feeble movement near the tail of the vertibird. Sgt  Nathan Church was lying face down, struggling to rise and pull himself free, but Edun could see his foot was pinned by a bent and twisted metal beam. She had two choices. Crawl away, escape the explosion, and leave Church to burn… or try and help him, and they both burned.---A meandering tale of sole survivor Edun, former USAF pilot. I focus a lot on relationships with companions, romance the hell out of Preston, and actually end up focusing on the Institute a lot...but I think you'll like it. Thanks for reading!!!Canonical divergences and creative liberty may take place for added depth. At a certain point I go off the rails entirely and delve into original content. This is also my personal favorite character origin story. I'm kind of proud of it.
Relationships: Preston Garvey/Female Sole Survivor
Series: In the Garden of Edun (har har) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005066
Comments: 130
Kudos: 38





	1. Down In Flames

**January 2077, 15 miles outside of Anchorage**

  
  


Somewhere far away, a radio crackled. 

_...Bird Alpha-Tango-Three-Zero, this is command. Do you copy?..._

Coughing from deep in her chest, Edun opened her eyes fractionally. Her head was _pounding,_ and she felt as though she was suffocating. Her flight mask dangled from her, one of the straps snapped. _Dangled_. She realized she was upside-down, her arms hanging towards what had once been the roof of the vertibird. Her helmet was gone. The bird that was on fire. She coughed again, choking on the smoke and fumes, the inferno surrounding her. Her copilot, Mac, was dead. There was no room for doubt. A piece of debris had speared him to his seat, going right through his chest. His flight suit was soaked in crimson, and there was a pool of blood beneath him - the rivulets of it running down his neck, soaking his scalp. His eyes were lifeless. They stared forward, unseeing. She looked away, fighting down the desperate urge to throw up. She needed to stay focused and get out before she joined him.

Her left leg was in terrible pain, and angling her head up to survey it, she knew it was broken. The leg of her suit was torn, and she could see bone stabbing its way out of the formerly smooth skin of her shin. There were no stimpacks up here in the cockpit. She would have to splint it when she got out of here.

She raised her arms, reaching for and pulling at the buckle of her security belt. The small chrome release was stuck. She clawed at it, yanked at it, only further tightening the belt. Hysteria clawed at her as the cockpit continued to fill with black smoke. Fighting the urge to hyperventilate, she closed her eyes. _Think, Edun. What do you have around you that will help?_ Her memory jolted at the prompt, and mumbling a brief prayer she opened the flap of the pocket on her right hip. A small, silver Swiss army knife tumbled out into her waiting hand. She kissed the smooth ivory handle for luck, as she’d done a thousand times before. Focusing, willing her shaky fingers to open the blade without dropping the precious item, she extended the larger of the blades and began sawing at her harness. The smoke was thicker, and she could hear fluid dripping from a severed line somewhere. She cut as fast as she could, the small blade working its way through the thick layers of nylon weave. _She would be dead by the time she sawed through this damn harness._

After mere moments that felt like hours, panic barely kept at bay in the back of her mind, the last strap gave way. She tumbled gracelessly the moment her weight was released, landing hard against the crumpled metal with a pain-filled yelp. Another violent fit of coughing tore from her, and she could see sparks in her vision from the force of it. She realized she’d landed in something wet. Hydraulic fluid? No. She wiped at her face, and her black glove shone with scarlet. Blood. Mac’s blood. Thick as it started to congeal. _Don’t dwell on it, don’t acknowledge it, get your ass in gear. Get out of this bird, soldier._ The windows were broken out. She looked back through the doorway, into the body of the vertibird. It was engulfed in flames. She definitely wasn’t going out that way. She pulled herself forward, trying her best to avoid the biggest shards of glass and praying the tough fibers of her flight suit protected her from the smaller ones. Despite the roof crumpling in, the mangled window made a large enough hole she could still make it through. 

She crawled through the glass and out onto the melting snow and mud, her belabored lungs burning with the effort and aching from the lack of oxygen. Now she had to get clear of the impending explosion, and fast. She could not walk on her leg, so she flipped herself onto her back and pushed herself backwards with both arms and her good leg. She clenched her teeth at each heave, her injured leg dragging painfully along the frozen ground. She was maybe 8 paces away when she heard a groan. She paused, her gaze darting about, seeking the source. She caught a feeble movement near the tail of the vertibird. Sgt Nathan Church was lying face down, struggling to rise and pull himself free, but Edun could see his foot was pinned by a bent and twisted metal beam. She had two choices. Crawl away, escape the explosion, and leave Church to burn… or try and help him, and they both burned.

She chose the latter. It wasn’t truly a choice. She would never leave a man behind. Stifling a grunt of pain, she altered her course - pushing and pulling herself through the snow until she reached Church. He was in shock, his eyes unfocused and his movements fumbling. He took a moment to recognize her.

“Kowalski, what the hell are you doing? Get out of here!” His voice was hoarse, ragged. He was clearly suffering from smoke inhalation as well.

“No can-do, Church, we gotta get you out of here. The bird’s gonna blow.”

“No shit, Kowalski, you think I can’t see that? You’ve got _seconds_ at best. Get the hell out of here.” 

She shook her head and turned her attention to the beam pinning him. She lay on her back, bracing her arms against the bent-upwards underside of the beam.

“When I push, you try to pull free, okay?” She rasped, her voice not in much better condition. Church nodded, and she saw him press his hands into the snow, ready. She could do this. She could bench 140 pounds in the shape she was at now. With all her might, she pushed against the beam. It groaned, creaked, but lifted about an inch. It was enough. Church pulled himself forward, hands grasping for purchase, and cleared the beam. Edun let it fall back down with a muted thud. With Church freed, the two of them made a desperate scramble for safety. Church, limping but able to walk, pulled Edun to her feet roughly and offered her the support needed. The two hobbled forward, trying to create some distance between them and the downed bird, when the explosion finally hit. Edun heard the roar as fire reached the cockpit and the broken fuel line, and without thinking it completely through, she shoved Church to the ground. She threw herself over his unprotected upper body, inadvertently looking at the last minute as the shockwave hit her with a terrible force. She flattened, but not before feeling the searing heat strike her, the skin on the left side of her face bubbling and blistering. It was the last thing she remembered before the world went dark.

When she came to, she was lying on her back. There was something soft under her head. She reached up, groaning, not quite daring to touch her face. The charred skin was tender, raw. It felt like it was still on fire, though she figured that was the exposed nerves rather than actual fire. She smelled singed hair. She propped herself up on an elbow. The vertibird, some 20 feet away, smoldered. She was closer to it now than she’d been when they dropped. The worst of the flames had died down, though she could still feel the warmth from it. The surrounding area was entirely scorched, the snow melted in a 10’ radius around the burning shell. _Church_. Where was Church? She looked around frantically, fearing the worst, but saw him sitting a few feet back from her - grimacing as he wrapped a piece of strapping around his twisted ankle for support. He turned to look at her, eyes glassy with pain. 

“Splinted your leg the best I could. Not much we can do now other than wait for evac, and hope the wildlife or the cold doesn’t get us first.”

“The fire should keep them away,” she replied, hoping against all hope that was true. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a goddamn Alaskan grizzly. With her leg broken and her suit soaked in a mix of her blood and Mac’s, she felt like a walking buffet. She surveyed the splint. He’d used straps from her flight harness and two pieces of tree branch for the construction. Considering what they had to work with, he’d done an excellent job. At least _someone_ had paid attention during field triage. She could be stranded with worse. She was somewhat relieved she’d been unconscious for the procedure. The thought of being awake while he set her bone made her shudder.

“At least the rads will keep us warm,” he joked. He was fighting against sleep, trying to stay awake in the aftermath of physical shock and exhaustion.

“Stay with me, Sergeant,” Edun prompted. 

“I think I have a concussion,” Church grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hard to...stay upright.” His breathing was tight, strained, whistling from his abused throat.

“After we take back Alaska, what are you going to do?” _Keep him talking. Keep him awake. Help is coming._

He smiled at that. “I’m going to get blind drunk and set off fireworks in my backyard while buck naked. You?”

Edun laughed at that, a hoarse and hacking sound. “I hadn’t thought too much about it, but your idea sounds as good as any.” 

“How long have you been out?” He asked.

“Two long months. I’ve got eight more to go. My husband is going to kill me, if the Chinese don’t.”

She saw his eyes change at that, shifting to more personal. “I have a son at home,” Church said softly. “Born three months ago. I can’t wait to hold him for the first time.”

“Must be hard for your wife.”

“She knew what she signed on for,” he said, shrugging. “Military service is a longstanding family tradition. But I know it’s been hard for her. I wish I could be there for her. I will be, soon. Just gotta make it those last few steps.” He reached into his breast pocket, fishing something out and holding it up for her to see. It was a small, tattered photo of a smiling woman. She had long, wavy dark hair and expressive eyes. She was laughing in the picture, hands on her hips, as though the photographer had caught her off guard. She had deep dimples on either side of her mouth, and looked to be around four months pregnant in the photo.

“How did a guy like you trick a girl like that into marrying you?” Edun jabbed. 

“I’ll let you know if I ever figure it out,” he responded, eyes tender as he returned the photo to its place in his pocket.

They talked long into the night. Despite how far out they’d crashed, sounds of the battle raging around Anchorage could still be heard. Explosions in the distance. The creeping darkness held an eerie glow in the sky. The kind of glow that usually followed a barrage of nukes. They’d lost all hope of contact with the explosion. The radio would not have survived. Edun could only hope their final mayday before the crash had been received. Between the two of them, they had their flight jackets, two service pistols with 12 rounds each, and a pocket knife. No stimpacks. No rations. No Med-X. They were in no condition to hike their way out of the wilderness, and no guarantee help was coming. All they could do was wait.

With nightfall came the rustlings of the local fauna. Every snapping twig and soft swish against snow made Edun jump. She couldn’t tell Church this, but she was terrified of bears. Absolutely, arguably rationally, terrified of them. She had been since she was a child, when her older siblings allowed her to go to the drive-in movies with them. She was so excited to be included she didn’t care what they were seeing. The film had been about a circus bear gone rabid, and she would never forget staring up at the screen wide-eyed, arms wrapped about herself tightly, as the animal tore out the throat of a bewitchingly beautiful acrobat. She knew it was a movie, but the wet ripping sound of flesh being torn paralyzed her with terror. Everyone had laughed at her frightened whimpers, and for months after they’d jumped out at her from doorways with awful roars, hands up like claws. She’d had recurring nightmares about bears for years after, even into adulthood. She refused to go camping, refused to go to zoos, and refused to go on Dad’s hunting trips.

She didn’t mean to, but at some point she nodded off again. She woke up shivering from the freezing air, her breath clouding in front of her face. The vertibird was no longer burning, and Edun found herself suddenly very aware that they were stranded in the wilderness of Alaska in the middle of January with nothing but a couple bomber jackets for warmth. They might be able to huddle in the wreckage of the vertibird for warmth. Anything that could help contain their body heat might save their lives. Besides, what was a little awkward cuddling between friends? She shifted, turned to Church. He was asleep, too. Damn. They’d both failed as watchdogs. She scooted forward, grasping his boot and shaking it.

“Church, wake up. Come on. We fell asleep.” He didn’t stir. She shook him again. “Church, wakey wakey eggs and bakey.” Nothing.

Dread coiled in the pit of her gut. She scooted closer, pulling herself forward to look at his face. He was as still and cold as stone. Frost gathered on his lashes, and there was no sign of breath coming from his nose or mouth. She closed her eyes. _Damn it, no. Not him, too._ She pulled her right glove off, her fingers stiff and cold despite the insulation, and pressed two fingers to his pulse. There was nothing. He was gone. Tears rose in her eyes, but she forced them back - blinking rapidly and pulling her lips into a snarl. She could not cry. This was not the time for it. Carefully, she dipped her fingers into his pocket and withdrew the worn photo. She would ensure this made it back to his wife if it was the last thing she did. If she _could_. If she made it out of this place alive.

She took his jacket, bile rising in her throat as she struggled to pull it from his stiffening limbs. He would not need it anymore, and for her it could very well be the edge she needed to make it through the cold night. She draped it over her head, trying to keep the warmth in and protect her ears and stinging face, before wobbling on her splinted leg back to the vertibird. She climbed into the back, easing herself down onto the roof and leaning back against one of the walls. She was alone now, shivering so hard her muscles clenched painfully. She knew moving would help, but her broken leg ached and pounded any time she did. The best she could do was wave her arms. She felt ridiculous, but she windmilled her arms and hummed a song to keep time to it. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she would ever see her husband again. What was he doing right now? _Stupid question, Edun. Right now he’s snuggled in your warm bed, dreaming and comfortable while you freeze atop a mountain._ She knew that wasn’t a fair thought, but in her misery it came anyway, unbidden.

The wolves came sometime before dawn. She jerked at the first of their footfalls, crunching against the frozen snow. There were six of them, varying in shades of black, gray, and white. If they smelled her, they gave no indication - focusing instead on Church’s body. They weren’t bears, but damn if they didn’t fill her with terror as much so as one of the great beasts would. She pressed a hand tightly over her mouth, forcing herself to be quiet. For a long time, there was no sound but the heartbeat flailing in her ears and the wet ripping and tearing sounds coming from where Church’s body lay 20 feet away. She did not move a muscle until morning, when the sunlight brought the chopping whir of an approaching vertibird’s rotors with it. All she could do was stare at Church's shattered and splayed rib bones, reaching up towards the sky. 


	2. Home Sweet Home

**September 2077, Boston**

Boston International Airport was jam-packed, buzzing with families waiting to greet their returning heroes. James would not be here among them. He didn’t even know she was home. She had decided not to tell him. As far as he knew, she was still on base and had a few weeks to go. She couldn’t wait to knock that front door off its hinges. He’d jump up, shocked, then laugh and cross the living room to her - greeting her with a flurry of kisses before picking her up and immediately dragging her back to the bedroom. Eight months had passed since the retaking of Alaska, and ten months had passed since she’d last been held in his arms. They would have a lot of catching up to do, and knowing James, there would be no time like the present. She felt her cheeks grow hot at the thought, and pressed a hand to her face.

Her fingertips reminded her of the thing she’d almost forgotten. The doctors had done what they could with skin grafts, but her face was still badly scarred on one side. Instead of gnarled, burned flesh she now had a bit of a jigsaw of scarring. Everywhere a section of skin had been grafted and healed, there was a seam around it. She was missing hair, too, a patch of it spanning from hairline to just behind her ear, up to her widow’s peak. While Edun had never been overly concerned with her looks, she’d been somewhat distressed when she saw herself in a mirror for the first time after the accident. She looked ghoulish; like a half-melted doll. The doctors had worked a miracle, though. She looked much better, now, and they had promised that follicle therapy would replace what she’d lost when she was ready. She hoped this wouldn’t change the way James felt about her. It was easy to say love was unconditional, but James was already out of her league. He was tall, broad, aloof and distinguished. He always wore a neat suit or a button-up with slacks, the sleeves rolled carefully to stay tidy and fashionable. When they met, he’d been a bit of a playboy. Whatever his reasons, he’d fallen for Edun as she had for him, and they’d made a life together.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mind her choice of career. He waited patiently for her each time she deployed, and truly the return was the best part. The way he kissed her as though he’d been dying for her every moment she was away sent curls of warmth down to her toes. She could almost feel it now, the heated kisses on her neck as he pressed his body against hers…

Shouting and tearful hugs right next to her made her jump, breaking her train of thought. She was embarrassed at her thoughts and startled at the noise. She struggled with loud noises. Each time something surprised her, she would flinch, thinking about the missile hitting the vertibird and the scream of torn metal before they plummeted. Of Church, lying there dead in the snow while she huddled in the wrecked bird and shivered, thinking about his wife. It was moments like this she had to fight the urge to duck under a table for cover. She knew she was safe, but she didn’t  _ feel _ safe.

_ His wife _ . Once she was settled in again, she had a trip to make. She owed Church that much. She would go see his wife in person, give her the photo, share his last words with her. If their roles had been reversed, it’s what she would have wanted him to do for James. Too many had died in the battle for Alaska. Too many had died over the course of this long, never-ending war. The US and China were like two snarling dogs, barely held back from each other on taut leashes over the years. The invasion of Alaska had been those leashes dropping. Now, ten years later, they were all standing on the brink of something potentially more terrible than anything imaginable... but nobody had dared drop the first bomb. Yet. While her fellow soldiers had shouted and cheered in victory from their hospital beds down the long corridor of the burn ward, Edun had lain silent. She felt no joy, for she knew it to be a hollow victory. Alaska was only the beginning.

Edun waded through the crowd to the curb, flagging down a taxi. The yellow car screeched to a halt, and the driver eagerly assisted her with placing her bags in the trunk before opening the passenger door for her.. She was clad in her USAF BDUs, which apparently counted for something. Americans had been extra patriotic - almost annoyingly so - since the liberation of Alaska. If Edun saw one more Nuka-Cola ad featuring smiling, wholesome soldiers gathered around a table and sipping ‘cold ones’, she was going to scream. Everything was so commercialized now. How could these people be so out of touch with the true nature of war?  _ Church, lying in the snow, crystals forming on his icy skin.  _ She watched the lights of the city blur past the windows, not truly seeing them.

There was a cough from the front at one point, and she turned her head. Her taxi driver looked put-out, and she realized absently that he’d been chatting with her for some time. What had he been saying? Something about his cousin Joey serving in Alaska, asking her if she knew the man. She focused, centered herself again, and engaged in polite conversation

“I’m not sure I knew him. What unit was he in?” she asked.

“Uh, he’s Army. That’s all I really know. Don’t bother too much with all the ranks and stuff.”

“Ah,” she replied. “No, I’m sorry. Didn’t know a Joey.” The man was an idiot. Thousands of soldiers had been stationed out there. Thousands. Army, USAF, Navy. Did he really think giving her nothing but ‘my cousin Joey’ would be helpful? She hated civilian small talk.  _ Hated  _ it. 

The cabbie shrugged, before launching into a story about his great-uncle who was a cop. His attempts to relate to her on some level ground against her frayed nerves like coarse sand, but she kept a small smile on her face and tried her best to nod at the right moments.

The car at last pulled up in front of the tall old brownstone. There were no lights on downstairs, but she could see a light on in their bedroom. She checked her watch. It was nearly eleven at night. Of course James would be upstairs by now, likely reading one of his stuffy books about quantum physics. Well, so much for kicking in the door and surprising the pants off him. She would just have to kick in the bedroom door and surprise the pants off him. If she was lucky, the pants would already be off of him and save her the work. She tipped the cabbie generously and grabbed her bags from the trunk before he could insist on helping her, shutting it as quietly as possible. She was sure James would appear in the window to investigate, but reminded herself that he wasn’t expecting her for weeks. He would simply think it was one of their neighbors coming home late from a night on the town. The Joneses were notorious party animals, tearing up the city until the wee hours of morning on a regular basis. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d missed  _ that.  _

The front door was unlocked. She frowned in disapproval. They might live in the ‘good’ part of town, courtesy of his professor’s salary, but that was stupid of him. She crept into the foyer, toeing off her heavy boots and setting her bags down on the lush carpet. The carpet in their home was her favorite thing about it. Thick, new, soft. She’d picked the color - a deep cream to compliment the sage walls. She wiggled her toes in it, relishing the cushion beneath her travel-weary feet. She looked around the dark living room, moonlight casting it in shadow but bright enough to allow her to take it all in. The decorative pillows were scattered about the floor in front of the couches, and there were glasses on the table without coasters beneath them. James was not as fastidious as her when it came to keeping house. Truth be told, Edun was fairly obsessive about it. She blamed her chronic neatness on her career. She couldn’t resist picking up a couple of the cushions and placing them back at the corners of the sofas. Less to worry about tomorrow. She surveyed the coffee table. There were a couple magazines, some wine glasses...Her gaze narrowed. On one of the glasses, clear and defined against the rim, was the crimson crescent of a lipstick print.

In a scene straight from a bad movie, that was the exact moment she heard a tinkling laugh from up the stairs. Edun’s blood turned to ice in her veins. There was no rush to denial in her brain. No second guessing. Her brain organized the situation and evidence neatly, like folders in a file, and she recognized what was going on; knew it to be an absolute truth. She turned calmly and headed for the stairs, grateful for the thick carpet for another reason now. At the top of the stairs, light spilled out from beneath the door. More laugher, high and bright, and the gruff voice of an answering male, murmuring and low. Edun placed her hand on the doorknob and was dimly aware of how steady it was. She pushed the door wide open, and there was a surprised gasp as she let it swing all the way. It bumped into the door stop with a thud and halted.

James was sitting cross-legged on their bed, arms wrapped around a girl who couldn’t be more than 19. She was the blond bubbly type, her youthful skin flushed pink with a mix of excitement and no doubt embarrassment. She was in James’ lap, facing him, and his face was buried in her enormous breasts. She froze like a frightened deer, staring at Edun with large and stupid eyes. James, not realizing something had changed, wobbled his face back and forth in an attempt to elicit another giggle. When he finally sensed their game was on hold, he pulled back and looked up. If Edun could take any memory and print it, frame it, and look at it every day again and again until the day she died… it would have been the look on his face the moment James met her eyes.

He all but  _ threw _ the girl from him, and Edun crinkled her nose in disgust when she realized they’d been quite literally joined at the hip. He grabbed a sheet, frantically covering his wet member with it and attempting to wrap it around his hips. Meanwhile, the girl, horrified, began to hysterically cry. Her face turned blotchy and red and she pulled a pillow to herself to hide her nakedness.

“Been a busy few months, James?” Edun inquired, her voice level and flat.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” James blustered. “She’s one of my students and I--”

“Could have fooled me,” Edun bizarrely found herself grinning. “Because I am pretty sure your dick inside her was  _ exactly _ what it looked like.”

“She...must have put something in my drink!” He exclaimed, grasping at anything he could come up with. The girl clutched the pillow to herself harder, snorting intermittently amidst her bawling.

“For fuck’s sake, kid, shut it,” Edun snapped at her. “If I was going to murder you, you’d have been dead before my husband was done motorboating you.”

“Edun, please, I--”

“No.” She turned back towards him, her voice hard but no less level. “Not another word from you. You have five minutes to remove yourself from my house before I forcibly remove you. I’m going to go to the kitchen, pour myself a nice glass of wine, and when I come back up here I expect both of you to be gone.”

She spun on her heel and stepped back into the hallway, inclining her head from the door in afterthought. “And James? Strip the sheets off the bed. I’d rather not sleep in your mess.”

She heard the front door slam when she was halfway through the glass of merlot, and felt a mirthless smile creep over her face. She should have seen this coming. The classic ‘Dear John’ scenario did not only apply to men in the military. Being the spouse of a serviceman or woman was not easy. If she thought on it, she shouldn’t have expected more from James. He was the sort who struggled with being alone. Isolation hit him straight in the ego, and when his ego suffered… he became desperate for validation. She rotated the glass in her fingers, seeing the lipstick on the other glass’s rim in her mind’s eye. Three years. They’d been married three years. Of those three years, they’d spent less than a year of it together. She would be 28 in November. Too old to be playing these games. Too old to be reevaluating her life. But here she was. Well, at least now she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about leaving someone behind on each deployment.

She looked up at the shadow filling the kitchen doorway. James stood there, wearing wrinkled slacks and a shirt that was buttoned crooked. He looked contrite, his handsome face twisted up mournfully as he looked at her.

“Please, Edun. I’m so sorry. Christ, I can’t say it enough. I made a mistake.”

She regarded him coolly, not saying a word, and he stepped closer to her. His arms were outstretched in a pleading gesture. Still she did not move. He was in her space, now, his hands closing over her shoulders and his voice low and tender.

“Edun, I…”

She slugged him. It was a reflex as automatic as taking a breath. One moment she was slowly releasing her wine glass, turning towards him. The next, her knuckles were connecting with his lower jaw in a painful and incredibly satisfying fashion. He nearly fell over, staggering to balance himself at the unexpected assault.

“ _You hit me_ ,” he could barely form the words, he was so stunned. “You hit me, you... _crazy bitch_.”

_ “I told you to get the fuck out,” _ she hissed sweetly between her clenched teeth.  _ “Dear.” _

Face white as a sheet, hand clutched to his jaw, he backed away from her and ran out of the kitchen, through the front door, and down their steps.

She walked back into the living room, flicking on the light. The fixture flickered and came to life, filling the space with a warm and cozy glow. She drained the rest of her glass, contemplated it for a moment, and then threw it against the brick surround of the fireplace. It shattered with a scintillating sound, bits of the thin glass scattering across the faux logs. She smiled to herself, picked up the glass with the lipstick from the coffee table, and threw it against the fireplace as well. Then James’ glass. Then his ashtray. Then she strode over to the china cabinet in the corner, and one by one began to smash his dead grandmother’s collection against the brick. From somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized she was both laughing  _ and  _ crying.


	3. Unfinished Business

**October 23, 2077: Just outside of Concord**

  
  


Edun stood before the pristine ‘home of the future’ feeling very out of place. Everything in this neighborhood was very overtly classy. Women pushed strollers down the sidewalk in full makeup, hair twisted up in elegant chignons, bright colored full skirted dresses swishing about their nylon-clad legs. Men called out things like  _ hello, neighbor!  _ While grilling meat on their barbecues or washing their shiny family Corvegas. She didn’t know what she was expecting the home of Nathan Church to be like, but this ritzy new neighborhood wasn’t it. She gave herself a little shake and rapped on the door. She’d been dreading this moment every day since the morning she was rescued. She was about to share things with a grieving woman that would likely reopen old wounds all over again. In time, the memories would matter. In time, they would mean something. But right now...they would rip her heart out of her chest all over again.

There was no answer. Edun frowned at the car in the drive, and the little flag on the mailbox extended to indicate new mail. Surely someone was home. She’d driven all the way out here without even thinking about the possibility that the woman might be out for the day. Did she call her Mrs Church? Or Ms Church? Was Ms Church insensitive? Edun rapped at the door again, then stood there rubbing the back of her neck in discomfort. She was no good at this sort of thing. She was great in  _ any  _ situation but this. She tapped her foot, checked her watch. It was 9 in the morning. She’d gotten up early today to make it out ahead of the Boston rush. Impatient, regretting her decision to come out but knowing it was important, she stepped off the front step and walked over to a window - peering in through the curtains and feeling like an absolute creep. The house within was in serious disarray. There were dishes piled in the sink, on the island, on the coffee table, on top of the TV. The floor was filthy. 

Edun grimaced. It was clear Nate’s widow was not doing so well. The interior of that home was a plea for help, if nothing else. She walked around to the other side of the house and peered in from that side. Through the curtains, she could see a child’s crib in the corner and toys scattered about, along with dirty diapers and empty bottles. She could see the baby in his crib, sleeping quietly despite the mess around him. She moved around to another side of the house. This window was hard to see through, the blinds pulled tightly shut. She could just barely see through the gaps where the cord threaded through the slats. In that slotted visual, she made out a woman lying on the bed within, half a dozen empty pill bottles scattered around her. Alarm bells went off in Edun’s head. She’d seen enough. She needed to get in that house, and fast. Trespassing charges be damned.

She went back into the garage and checked the knob to the door leading into the kitchen. It was locked. Pulling her wallet from her rear pocket, Edun drew forth a credit card and slid it into the jamb. The door popped open easily. She shook her head, returning the card to its place in her wallet before pocketing it once more. Civilians were terrible about security. Every time. The smell from the house made her stomach churn. It smelled like rotten food, old diapers, sweaty bodies, and dust. A Mr Handy idled in a corner, making no move to stop her or remedy the mess at hand. She walked through the kitchen and past the silent robot. She realized he was facing the wall. Curiosity got the better of her.

“Hello?” she asked in a low voice.

“Greetings, mum,” the robot replied in that irritating British accent they all seemed to have. “I must apologize for the mess. I’ve been...decommissioned.”

“Decommissioned?” He seemed fine to her, other than the fact he was facing the corner like a child in a Dunce cap.

“Yes, I’m afraid my mistress has given me orders to...Sit in a corner and shut the, eh, er, hell up.” The robot was clearly uncomfortable with bad language. Edun had a feeling the word actually uttered had started with an  _ f _ , not an  _ h _ . 

“I’m going to go check on her, okay? You just… keep an eye on things.” She found herself pitying the robot. He’d been denied his sole purpose. It must be distressing for him. If robots could be  _ distressed, _ anyway. The robot remained where he was, looking all the world like a wilted flower, and Edun continued down the hall. At the end of it, she turned to the left and found herself in the doorway of the master bedroom. As she’d feared, the woman splayed out on the bed was the very same one from the picture...though quite different. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes vacant in shadowed sockets. She was thin, painfully so… bony wrists, birdlike arms and legs. Her shining brown hair had lost it’s lustre, and she was dreadfully pale. The sort of pale that usually accompanies not leaving one’s house for many months. She smelled as though she hadn’t bathed in a week, and the dress she wore was rumpled and wrinkled, stained with sweat. Edun struggled not to cover her nose and mouth. She didn’t want to make the woman feel ashamed of her position.

Edun directed her eyes to the pile of empty prescription bottles on the bare mattress beside the woman. She entered the room, stepping over the piles of clothing and trash, and leaned over - plucking up one of the orange bottles and inspecting it. Prescription painkillers, the writ made out to Nathan Church. She picked up another. Muscle relaxers, also written out to Nathan Church. The third bottle was Valium, this time written out to one Nora Church.  _ Nora. Her name was Nora.  _ The other bottles were much the same - an assortment of medications, some old and some new. She let herself sink onto the mattress, reaching out and taking the woman’s hand. She checked her pulse. Nora’s pulse was wildly erratic. That... was not good. Nora stirred sleepily, opening her eyes and angling her head on the pillow.

“Who…” she croaked, before clearing her throat and licking her lips. “Who are you?” 

“I’m a friend. Ah, was a friend. Of Nathan’s.” Edun saw the woman’s eyes cloud over with pain, and she turned her head away - pulling her hand from Edun’s grasp, wrapping the arm about herself.

“I see.” 

“Nora,” Edun said gently. “How many of these pills did you take?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Nora slurred. “I’m going...home.” 

“Nora, this isn’t the way. You have a son who needs you.” Edun shook her by the shoulder, not too hard but enough.

“It’s better this way,” Nora insisted, forcing her eyes open again to look at Edun. “Better than the alternative.”

“What alternative, old age after watching your boy grow up?” Edun insisted. She stood, walking towards the door. She needed to call the emergency line and get help on the way. If Nora had taken that drug cocktail, she didn’t have long.

“No,” Nora called out. Her voice was a little stronger. “No, it’s better than...the bombs. I was going to help Shaun cross, too. Didn’t want to leave him to this. But...I couldn’t do it. I’m too weak. I can’t kill my baby.” She began to sob, broken sobs wrenching from a broken woman.

“Nora, there are no bombs. It’s a beautiful, sunny day outside.”

Nora shook her head, rising halfway off her pillow. “They haven’t fallen yet. But they are going to. I know someone. They warned me. Made me buy a space in...the vault. But I can’t do it.  _ Don’t you get it? _ ” She was angry now, eyes flashing with a spark they hadn’t had before. “There is no _life_ without Nate. There never will be.”

“You have been shut up in here a long time, with only your grief for company,” Edun said calmly, though an icy finger of dread was crawling up her spine at the woman’s words. How could anyone possibly know about an impending nuclear attack? And why tell Nora, and not someone who could do something to stop it? She thought of the tripe that Vault Tec company was always touting.  _ In the event of total atomic annihilation... _

“I’m not crazy,” Nora protested. “I know you look at me, at what I’ve done, and think I am...but I’m not. I know it’s coming, and it will take Shaun and it will take you. It will take everyone.” She fell back on her pillow, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes into the dark hair at her temples.

“I’m going to call someone to come help you,” Edun said firmly. This was a lot more than she’d bargained for. This was somehow worse than just breaking the woman’s heart a second time. 

“Don’t,” Nora said. “They won’t... get here in time, and nothing they do...will matter.” Her sentences were growing longer, stretched out by breathy pauses as the drugs took hold of her. She was slipping away while Edun stood there arguing with her.

Edun resumed her march down the hall, searching for the telephone, when the wail of air raid sirens wound up, louder and louder, outside. The cold finger of dread became a spike of ice through her heart. This couldn’t be real. She ran back to Nora, who was waiting for her - a terrible gleam in her eyes.

“Take my son,” she gasped. “Take him to the vault. Tell them... you are me. They will let...you in. Then both of you...will survive.”

“My family,” Edun said stupidly. Her parents were on a cruise somewhere off the gulf coast right now. Her brother and sisters were scattered all across the United States. 

“Nothing...you can do. Please. Take him...and go. Hurry.” Nora was clutching her chest now, and with those last couple words, she closed her eyes. She exhaled, and it was as though her body were a piece of paper being crumpled by an invisible hand. She was gone.

_ “Fuck,” _ Edun swore. Outside, the sirens continued to scream their warning. In the other room, the baby - Shaun - began to cry. Edun shouldered the door open, ran across the room, and picked up the sobbing infant. He saw her and wailed harder, his cry switching to the distressed bawl that only babies in pain or who are terrified use.  _ Well, kid, that makes two of us, _ she thought as she raced outside with the baby bouncing against her shoulder. She didn’t even know where the vault  _ was.  _ She stood in the front yard of the futuristic home, watching chaos tear through the neighborhood. People were running, crying, yelling. The idealistic peace from earlier was shattered by the arrival of the wailing sirens. A couple ran past her, dragging suitcases with them.

“Hurry, the vault is just up that hill,” the man panted. “Why the hell did you need to grab your blow dryer?” 

Edun fell into step behind them, sprinting to keep up. Shaun’s cries were frantic, threatening to rupture her eardrum with their shrillness. She knew approximately zero about babies. She’d been the youngest in her family, had no nieces or nephews, and since all her friends were military… she didn’t see a lot of babies with them, either. She patted the child on the back, hoping it was comforting on some level, but there was no way she was slowing down. She followed the couple down the street, and then up a steep hill. It was not paved, and a couple of the others running up the hill with them tripped or slid on the dirt. 

The path up the hill led them to a gate, where military personnel and Vault Tec employees were screening people. Edun pushed her way to the front, mumbling an apology to the kid when he caught an elbow and howled some more. 

“Are you on the list?” Barked a grizzled and ruffled looking man, holding a clipboard and waiting for her answer expectantly.

Edun nodded. This was it. “Yes, Church. Nora Church. This is...my baby. Shaun.” 

The man’s eyes skimmed over the list in front of him. “I show here there should be three of you. Husband, wife, child?” 

“My husband is dead,” she challenged him, and realized there was real grief in her voice.

“Ah,” the man replied, crossing something off the list. “Well, you and the little one go ahead. Get moving, no time to wait.” With that, he stepped aside to let her through and the armed men behind him moved out of the way as well. Angry shouts rose from behind her as the burgeoning crowd demanded to be let in.

Vault Tec security guided her the rest of the way up the hill. At the top, a cluster of people stood on a large metal lift platform, waiting. Behind her, Edun could hear panicked yelling and someone shouting at the crowd to get back. She paused and looked back just in time to see the armed men open fire on the frantic crowd trying to force their way past the fence. Screams accompanied the gunfire as people fell under the hail of bullets.

“Ma’am, we’ve  _ got to go _ ,” the security guard insisted, pulling at her arm. Edun felt herself being pulled onto the platform with the others. In the distance, towards Boston, they watched the bomb hit. An explosion, bright and hot and fiery, bloomed on the horizon.  _ Holy shit, Nora had been right. They did it. They fucking bombed us.  _ Something shifted, and the platform began its descent into the earth. The last thing Edun saw was the blast from the shockwave, ripping through the trees towards them.


	4. Popsicle Party

**Summer 2227, Inside Vault 111**

Edun woke to the sound of air hissing. She fought against the fog in her mind. Images flashing, tormenting. _She needed to get free of her harness. Needed to get to her pocket knife. The ‘bird was going to blow and she was trapped. Mac. Mac was dead. His blood was everywhere, it was on her suit and her gloves, in her hair, smeared against her cheek. Not again. She had to get to Church, had to stop him from falling asleep, the wolves… The wolves were coming… toothy smiles, laughing in doggy grins, breath fogging out white. Shaking and shivering in the dark, breathing into her glove, listening to the snarling and the ripping of meat...She couldn’t breathe. Not again. Not again._

Light stung her eyes, and she realized they were open. She was awake. She was shivering violently, felt ice on her skin and all around her. Was she inside the vertibird? Had she nearly frozen to death? Something shifted against her, and she realized her arms were wrapped tightly around a bundle. Church’s jacket? She pulled the bundle away from her, frozen fabric crunching in protest. She was holding a baby. _Why did she have a baby? Was this a nightmare?_ Figures moved about on the other side of the small window in front of her, and memory flooded back to her. She was in a decontamination pod. She was in a vault. _Someone had dropped a fucking atomic bomb on Boston._ Her teeth chattered, drawing her back to the present. This wasn’t a decontamination _anything._ She had sure as shit been frozen like a box of fudgsicles. No official invitation to the popsicle party. No warning, nothing. One moment she was standing in the pod waiting for the process to begin, and the next she was gagging on nitrogen. Good hell, she felt terrible. She was sick to her stomach, and her body would not stop shaking.

Voices outside the door. Muffled. The kid was waking, screwing up his face for another epic screaming fit no doubt. She tried to rock him, comfort him before the storm unleashed, but her muscles were stiff and tight. She managed a few jerky pumps of her arm, and the kid began to cry again. Her babysitting track record could be rated as piss-poor at this point. So far she’d only traumatized the child and gotten him elbowed in the face and then frozen. She tensed as the latch on the door disengaged, and it began to open like something from a sci fi movie. First, she saw a pair of muddy boots and a couple pairs of clean, white boots. Then black jeans and a gun holster, and more white uniform. Then some kind of body armor, and a grizzled face with a scar. A man who looked like he’d seen better days peered in at her, sizing her up. The scar was wide, running from his forehead and down over one eye, carving cruelly into his cheek. Beside him, two scientist types in white biohazard uniforms stood waiting. One of them - a woman - held out her arms to the baby.

“There, now,” she soothed. “Everything is going to be fine.” Her hands closed around the blue bundle. Startled, Edun yanked Shaun away. Like hell she was going to let anyone touch Church’s baby until she got some answers.

“You’re not touching him until you explain to me who you are and what the hell is going on,” Edun growled. “Starting with, why did you freeze us?”

“Let the boy go. Now.” The scarred man was speaking to her, and Edun heard the _snick_ of a hammer being drawn back. Her eyes flashed over to him, and she found herself staring down the barrel of a particularly long and nasty .44 Magnum.

“Can’t do that, amigo,” she said through chattering teeth. _Way to put the fear of god into them, sounding like wind-up dentures._ “He’s not your kid, so keep your fucking hands off him.” 

“I won’t tell you twice,” the man warned. The scientist’s hands were on the bundle again, coaxing her to let go.

“Get off him, I said,” she yelled. There was a roar - the .44 going off way too close to her ear, once and then twice - and she realized dimly, through the ringing in her ears, that the bastard had _shot her. He couldn’t just shoot her. She was an American citizen. She had rights._ Then she remembered how the security team had mowed down the frightened civilians back on the hilltop, and realized she might well be in a world without those rights now. Tugging hands pulled the baby from her arms at last, as Edun’s arms relaxed and went limp. 

“ _What are you doing_?” the male scientist hissed. “We needed a backup plan.”

“You’ll have your spare,” the scarred man said as the hatch began to close again. “Neither was a fatal gunshot.”

Edun looked down. There was a neat hole through each shoulder, nearly mirror images, blood pulsing slowly from each tear in her suit. Her body’s low temperature and the frigidity of the pod had throttled the blood flow significantly. Under normal circumstances, it would be a hell of a lot more than a slow pulse. He was likely right. They wouldn’t be fatal. He’d effectively cut her strings, allowing the scientist to take Shaun. Her furious eyes met his through the glass. He looked as though he’d just done something as mundane as returned a book to its shelf. She wondered why he didn’t kill her. A spare? For what? Was he some sort of hired thug for Vault Tec? They obviously needed her for something, because there was no doubt in her mind that otherwise she’d have a bullet lodged in her heart. Whatever their reasons, whatever lay in store for her...when they woke her up again, the first thing she was going to do is find and strangle that piece of shit. And then she was going to get Church’s boy back. 

  
  
  


**Spring 2277**

Thawing again was excruciating. As her nerves came alive, so did the pain. She had two bullet holes to attend to. As she moved through the empty vault, the pain went from a dull throb to a knife-hot pain stabbing through her. Rummaging through the various rooms of the vault, she was able to find two very important things. A dusty bottle of vodka and a medical kit. Her first order of business was to drink half the bottle, blessing whoever left it behind as the numbing warmth flowed through her. The next order of business was locating the lost bullet. She’d found one; the slug had passed through her left shoulder and embedded in the padded backing behind her. The one in her right shoulder had not cleared, though, and that meant it was still lodged in there. She didn’t relish the idea of digging around for it, but she had no choice. If she didn’t get the bullet out, the bleeding would continue and she risked infection. She injected a stim into her left shoulder, waiting for the pain to abate and the flesh to begin to slowly knit back together. Her vault suit was a mess, soaked in blood and with two ragged holes on either side of her chest. Slowly, moving like a tin man without oil, she unzipped the vault suit to the waist and pulled her arms out of the sleeves , crying out in pain at the movement in her shoulders. When the bleeding had stopped in her left shoulder, she picked up the forceps awkwardly in her left hand. Edun was far from ambidextrous, but she would have to make do. 

Despite the vodka helping take the edge off, she let out a whimpering groan, biting her lip as she dug deep into the pathway the second bullet had carved through her muscle. It had gone deep, lodged against her scapula. The thin forceps closed around the lump of lead, and she slowly drew it back out. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she could feel her body fighting for unconsciousness. Between the bullet wounds and the cryo sickness, she was in bad shape. She let the forceps and bloodied slug clatter to the desk she was sitting at, before dousing the injury site with vodka and injecting another stimpack. She was going to smell like an alcoholic hobo by the time all this was done. She covered each wound with a sticky bandage and wiped herself clean the best she could.

She waited until her head stopped spinning to slowly stand, and rummaged through the dresser in the room. She found a men’s undershirt, white and stiff with age, in one of the drawers. It would do. She pulled the sleeves of her vault suit around her hips and tied them, before gingerly pulling the undershirt over her head, wincing and hissing through her teeth. Well, step 1 was done: Don’t Die. Step 2 was Get the Hell Out of Here. The vault had become a tomb for the staff. Skeletons littered the place. Some still lay in their beds. Others were slumped over terminals or cafeteria tables. Some had fallen in hallways. She wasn’t sure if they’d starved to death, mutinied, or had somehow been irradiated. The desiccated skulls staring at her with their empty sockets would not be telling her the story any time soon. At least, she hoped not. The large cockroaches gave her the creeps as it was.

There was no sign of the scarred man or the scientists in white. None of the skeletons wore clothing that matched what she remembered. There were no logs, no information. Nothing on who they were or what they had wanted with a baby. Or her. When she found the Overseer’s desk, she at least got _some_ answers. It turned out all the people frozen in the pods were meant to be kept thus indefinitely. They were experiments. Lab rats. They were never going to live out their lives down here. The moment they stepped on that platform, they’d sealed their fate down here. Naturally, food ran out and the staff grew discontent - turning on each other, trying to fight their way out of the vault. And so the vault became their final resting place as well. Those who didn’t starve to death were shot, and those who shot them in turn starved to death. There was some poetic justice in that, she thought, as she liberated the dead Overseer of his handgun. 

More of the enormous roaches milled about the moldering bones of a scientist at the gate access station. Once Edun had cleared them with her new gun, she found a pip boy still around the deceased man’s wrist. She slid it on, noting the cushioned cuff was still comfortable and cool against her skin. She gave the thing a good smack, and the screen showed the booting sequence begin. Once it had finished the startup cycle, she plugged her pip boy into the gate controls and commanded the great steel door to open. She watched as it grated and squealed, dusty and rusted at the edges from 200 years without proper use. Whatever awaited her up there, it had to be better than staying down here and playing duck, duck, goose with cockroaches. Step 2: complete.


	5. The Streets of Concord, Running Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this is the Concord scene. Sorry not sorry :B I wanted to write it like Sole isn't just some badass right out the gate and had to work hard to not get skewered.

The world was nothing like she remembered. According to the old Mr Handy still residing in the destroyed Church house, 200 years had passed. _200 years._ After all that time, the commonwealth still bore the scars from the bombs in the form of skeletal trees, filthy water, and mutated animals and humans. She’d stumbled across a couple of the latter, exploring the surrounding area of Sanctuary Hills. The twisted bodies, gnarled skin, and bits of muscle and bone peeking through irradiated skin was horrifying. It reminded her of her face, too, and after shooting the first one she encountered, she’d lifted her fingers self-consciously to her cheek again. It was becoming almost a tic for her, she realized. She often found herself stroking her fingers over the scars in times of distress. They reminded her of how she’d gotten here, now. Church had died. She had survived. Now she had to make things right and find his child. She still had the photo of Nora, tucked carefully into a pocket. She’d kept it in case the kid wanted to know something about where he came from. She wondered if he was still alive. If they’d kept him, or done something far more nefarious.

Okay. Step 3 would be Finding Someone Who Could Give Her an Idea of Where to Start Looking. That was a mouthful. It turned out the depressed robot had a name. Codsworth. Because of _course_ it was Codsworth. Otherwise it would have been Winston or Jarvis or Alfred or Benson. Codsworth had been still sitting in his corner when Edun found him again. He’d been there all these years, waiting for his owner to redirect him. Edun tried not to think about the bones in the desiccated dress sprawled out on what remained of the bed in the master room, and instead suggested she take over the household in his lady’s stead. Codsworth had risen to the plan with incredible enthusiasm, immediately springing to action to tend the flowers.

“Codsworth,” she pointed out as he gleefully snipped the pitiful twigs in the planter box. “I don’t think there are any azaleas left. They’re dead.”

“Nonsense, mum. Nothing ever truly dies. It only becomes something else.” He pointed at the base of one of the twigs, and when Edun leaned close she could see a series of tiny, leafy sprouts standing proudly. “Where azaleas once were, there are new flowers. They are different, yes, but still flowers. It will bloom all the same.” 

That was… surprisingly insightful, coming from a robot. 

“Codsworth,” she ventured. The robot did not turn, busy with his task of weeding, but she continued. “I want to find the people who took Shaun. But I don’t know where or how to begin.”

“Ah, yes, our missing young master Shaun. Well, I should think in order to find him you must first find other people who can help you. There are usually traders in Concord, just up the road. Mayhaps one of them could assist you?” 

“Mayhaps,” she agreed in a somewhat mocking tone, but Codsworth was oblivious in his new freedom. She left him to his task and headed off towards Concord.

There was a dog wandering about the old Red Rocket just beyond Sanctuary. Edun proceeded cautiously, gun half-raised, waiting to see if the dog was wrong in the head or dangerous in some way, but the large German Shepherd only trotted up to about ten feet away and cocked his head, wagging his tail low to the ground. There wasn’t a soul in sight. The dog was alone, and looked a little too lean for her comfort. She crouched in the middle of the broken asphalt and snapped her fingers. The dog trotted closer. Five feet away. They regarded each other, both waiting to see what the other would do. She reached into the side pocket of her pack and removed the stale snack cakes she’d been saving for later. The crinkling wrapper got his attention, all right. His ears pricked forward and he stared intently at the bag.

“Are you hungry?” she asked in a low voice, deliberately crinkling the wrapper some more. The dog let out a soft whine, brown eyes boring into her. She shifted closer to him. Four feet away. The dog didn’t move. She tore open the wrapper, the foil-backed plastic giving way easily under pressure. The dog licked his lips. She pulled one of the finger-like cakes from the package, broke it in half, and tossed a piece to the dog’s feet. He scarfed it up lightning-quick, then returned to staring at the item in her hands.

“If you want it, you’re gonna have to come a little closer,” she said softly, tossing the second half about two feet away from the dog. He scooted closer. Three feet away. He stretched his neck out and gobbled up the morsel. One snack cake remained now. She pulled it from the package and tucked the wrapper in her pocket. Apocalypse or not, she wasn’t about to take up the nasty habit of littering. She held the last cake up to her nose, taking a deep, exaggerated sniff of it. “Oh, wow, _yum,_ this is the best one yet.” The dog licked his chops and whined again. She found herself grinning, and in a bold move she would likely regret, she placed the snack cake gently in her teeth and leaned forward just a little more. The dog stared at her in disbelief, and she waggled her eyebrows at him. He took another step forward, and then another - taking the snack cake from her carefully and delicately. He didn’t retreat from her space, only finished off the cake with a satisfied smacking, and sat on his haunches. _Well, that was progress._ She reached out her hand and let him snuffle it, which he did with an air of politeness. She carefully turned the hand, placing it on his sleek shoulder. He wagged his tail in response. Encouraged, she began to stroke his shoulder, then his neck, then scratched behind his ear. The tension in the air dissolved, and the dog began to lick her face in true earnest. She laughed, grimacing in disgust, but not actually fending him off.

“I had a feeling you might be a sweet boy,” she crooned, doling out affection with both hands now. “I’ve got places to be, honeybaby, but if you want to follow me you are welcome to.” The dog chuffed at her, almost as though he understood, and with one final scritch she rose to her feet. She turned from the Red Rocket, continuing on down the road to Concord. A smile returned to her face when she heard the click of claws on pavement behind her. So, she wasn’t entirely friendless in this forbidding place after all.

The sounds of shouting and gunfire drew her to a halt outside the small town. She looked down at the dog, who tilted an ear towards her but otherwise remained focused on the source of the noise.

“I don’t know, angelmuffin, doesn’t sound like a friendly group of traders to me. Should we go in? What are your orders?” She asked the canine. He let out a low bark and wagged his tail. She saluted. “Aye, captain. Into the abyss we go.”

They made their way through the streets and alleys quietly, carefully, making sure they did not alert anyone or anything. Edun was impressed to notice the dog picking up on her mood, slinking alongside her as she stayed low between cover. Creeping through an abandoned house, she crossed to the other side and peeked up over the sill at the scene below. There was a rather motley group of men and women waging a full assault on the Museum of Freedom at the end of main street. She counted at least a dozen, all with their attention on the big building. She could see return fire from a laser rifle, but not who was wielding it or how many there actually were. The group on the street did not appear to be outnumbered, but _were_ outclassed from the looks of it. Their armor appeared to be bits and pieces of leather and metal scrap, their weapons equally so. Rifles and handguns made from pipe, rusting and crudely built. They could hardly be accurate, looking as though they’d been made from scrapped shopping carts. The scene before her told her one thing: these weren’t the good guys. The shouting, cursing, and threats to scalp the shooter on the balcony made that much obvious. She had really stumbled into some wild west shit, here.

Crappy weaponry or not, Edun couldn’t just go in guns-a-blazing. Twelve people shooting at you was still twelve people shooting at you. She cursed the 10mm, wishing she at least had a silencer to thread onto it. She opened her pack and dug through it, locating the stun baton she’d found in the vault. Well, that was quieter than the pistol, at least. Using it was another thing. There hadn’t been many occasions during her career as a pilot that required hand-to-hand combat. She flew the birds. That was her job. She’d taken human life a couple times, but there was little time for qualms when Chinese troopers were bearing down on you, their lips drawn back in snarls and their bayonets gleaming wickedly beneath an orange sky. The bird that crashed on that fateful night with Church wasn’t the first crash she’d been in. Years earlier, anti-aircraft rounds ripped through the sky, taking out the left rotor. The bird spiraled down, crashing right in the thick of battle. Edun had barely managed to set it down upright. That was where the silver lining had ended. They’d crashed on the wrong damn side. Enemy soldiers had poured out of the trench beside the downed machine, and her survival instinct had kicked in through the haze of fear and adrenaline. She’d jumped on the still-functional minigun and gave them hell until help arrived in the form of cover fire from a few other birds. With the enemy distracted, Edun and the rest of the crew had hauled serious ass across the field and back across the American line.

So, while she’d definitely taken human life - disregarding the puking episode after - she wasn’t sure how she felt about this. It was much closer and much more personal than just blazing a minigun into a crowd of enemy soldiers.

All humans have a flight instinct. It was part of being an animal, albeit an evolved one. An innate response to danger or stress; your body pumping you full of hormones to better equip you for making the choice of taking a stand or running for the hills. Erratic heartbeat, dry mouth, excessive sweating, shaky limbs. Being at the top of the food chain did not exempt human beings from these things. Edun knew this, but knowing it didn’t change the fact that she wanted more than anything to back away slowly from the unfolding shit storm. The only thing keeping her grounded was the thought that whoever was on that balcony very likely needed some help, and from the way the attacking group was gaining ground, sooner rather than later.

“Ah, _shit,_ ” she muttered to the dog, pulling the stun baton from her pack. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” He only waited patiently by the door while she checked the rounds in her magazine and hefted the baton. It crackled with energy when she switched it on, dialing it up to the maximum setting. She didn’t give herself time to change her mind, slipping out the door and down the sidewalk - keeping her body low to the ground. The first raider was completely oblivious to her coming up behind him. He was far too busy firing at the Museum. His firing posture was terrible, and Edun jammed the shock baton straight into his armpit. Nice and close to his heart. He dropped like a bag of bricks, out like a light. _Serves him right for that godawful chicken wing he was doing,_ she smiled to herself. One down. Eleven to go. Her second target turned towards her when she was a few feet away, and she lunged at the man - ramming her shoulders into the raider’s gut, shoving him against the brick wall of an old store and giving him the full wrath of the baton. His body twitched as he crumpled to the ground, involuntary jerks spasming his limbs. Ten to go. Maybe she should have a subsection to Step 3. Subsection 3A, Drop All the Raiders Before They Drop You. As an afterthought, she grabbed the couple frag grenades from the raider’s belt. Never knew when one of those might come in handy.

Her heart was hammering in her throat as she peered around an old rusted truck. There were three raiders ahead, two men and a woman, arguing over how to load a missile launcher. _Okay, Edun, no more electric tickles. Whoever is on that balcony won’t survive a missile blast. It’s them or the raiders. Pull up your big girl panties._ She closed her eyes, focused on her breathing. In for five seconds, out for five seconds. Pet the dog. She scratched the dog’s ear, and he licked her hand. Somewhat calmed, she pulled the pin and tossed the grenade towards the raiders with a low underhand throw. She watched it roll across the fractured concrete, bouncing and wobbling until it came to a stop against one of the raider’s boots. There was a confused yell, and Edun ducked back behind the truck. There was a loud boom, a shock wave that shook the truck against her sweaty back, and then it began to rain. Not the good kind of rain. Not the sort of precipitation that gave plants life. Red, misty rain and chunks of human meat. Edun clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the scream. _Jagged white rib bones, fibrous membrane still clinging to them, reaching up towards the sky._ Her lungs shuddered, attempting to hyperventilate while simultaneously feeling seized in her chest.

_“Hey,”_ a voice called from somewhere. “Someone’s fucking _here_. Which one of you let one of those Minutemen bastards sneak past?” 

Clarity surged through Edun, breaking the tunnel vision closing in on her. They knew something was up. Well, she’d gotten five of them. That left seven to go. She peered through the gap between the truck’s bed and the cab. There were a couple raiders walking in her direction, coming to investigate the blast and eyeing her hiding place suspiciously.

“Slag, is that you?” One of them called towards the truck. She considered answering, but had no idea if Slag was supposed to be a male or female. She pulled the pin on her last grenade, counted to three - she needed this one to be close - and lobbed it over the truck. She heard a cry as one of them spotted her, followed by an alarmed yell when the grenade landed. Another blast, and the truck rattled at the proximity. The patter of meaty chunks against the metal truck and the street. It was in her hair. She tried desperately not to think about it, forcing herself to concentrate on how she was going to deal with the remaining five targets. Her legs were shaking like a newborn colt’s, and she braced her hands on them for a second. It was time for the pistol. She dropped the baton and drew her 10mm, running from behind the truck in a crouch and dashing to a pile of sandbags left by the raiders.

“There! I saw something!” Another shout from somewhere in front of the Museum and to the right. 

“Where’d that little bitch go?” She heard another male voice snarl. Footsteps coming in her direction. “Come on out and play with the big boys, darlin.’ Don’t be afraid. We won’t bite.” 

Edun wondered belatedly if cannibalism was a thing here, and felt a fresh wave of nausea at the thought. _Subsection 3A. Subsection 3A._ _Subsection 3A_. _Focus, soldier._ How many were left? She didn’t know how many had been caught in the last frag. She dared a look. She could see now that only one man stood atop the balcony, firing down on the remaining raiders. He was providing her cover fire, whether it was unwittingly or not. There were four raiders, returning fire over their barricade while trying to search the area for her. She ducked out of cover long enough to fire off several shots, holding her breath and sighting down the little iron sights. Two targets down. The other two saw her and cursed, opening fire on her pile of sandbags. They let their zeal get the better of them, however, and she heard the laser rifle fire again and again from the balcony. Silence fell over the street, and Edun popped up again. The two raiders were dead. 

“You, down there!” The man from the balcony called down. “We sure could use your help! I’ve got people inside, and the raiders are almost through the door!” 

She stood up, then, shielding her eyes against the sun to take a good look at him. All she could really tell was that he was very tall. “You’re going to have to give me a minute,” she yelled back. “I need to see about scrounging up some ammo. I’m near out. I wasn’t expecting this warm reception.”

“There’s a laser musket on the ground by the door,” he pointed at the ground below the balcony. There was a dead man, wearing a coat just like his, and a large rifle on the ground beside the body. _Sweet. That was an upgrade by a mile._

“Two pizzas and a second gun, coming right up!” She gave him a salute, and after giving her an odd look, the man disappeared back into the Museum.

She stepped out from behind the sandbags and strode up the street - stopping to snag a few grenades from the dead raiders at the barricade. One of them was wearing a combat chest plate that looked like old military issue, and after a moment of thought, she unbuckled the piece and put it on. There was blood on it, but at this point she was covered in splatter. What was some more strawberry jam in the grand scheme of things? She looked around, surveying the chaos in her wake. There were two small blast craters from where she’d tossed the grenades, and blood and bits of people everywhere. She felt disgusted. It was like something from the bible, a bit about streets running red with blood. The streets of Concord, running red. Had she really done all this? Her stomach clenched. She could hear gunfire coming from inside the museum, and jerked herself back into the present. Subsection 3A was relatively accomplished, though there needed to be a 3B now. Clear the Museum Without Getting Deaded. There was a nagging feeling in her chest. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was forgetting something. What? The dog? No, he was at her heels, hugging them like a shadow.

As she neared the body in front of the museum and the rifle beside it, the dog let out a bark of alarm. She turned on her heel, body immediately tensing, handgun coming up again. There was a raider behind her, coming out of the abandoned store. He held a baseball bat wrapped in razor wire high above his head, and was mid-arc bringing it down on her head. Edun dropped and rolled, coming up on her back. She leveled her handgun at the man as his weapon harmlessly slammed into asphalt. He snarled a curse, but before he could lift the bat again, she put a slug in his brain. _That_ was what she’d forgotten. There were twelve raiders in the beginning, and she and the stranger had only taken down eleven of them. It was an amateur move, not clearing the area before waltzing through it. She cursed herself for being so stupid. The dog trotted over to her and licked her face.

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you. Don’t think this means you can lick my face indefinitely.” 

She pulled herself up off the ground, dusted off her filthy white shirt and vault suit bottoms, and walked over to the laser musket. When she got back to Sanctuary, she was going to kick Codsworth in whatever he had that passed for teeth. This had not been a simple errand at _all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. from here-on out every nickname given to Dogmeat is one I call my dog IRL. he hates me.
> 
> Jk he loves me to death. He is a wiener. A magnificent old wiener.


	6. Step 4...Nevermind, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

Step 4 was simple. Climb into some old power armor, grab the minigun from the downed vertibird on the roof, and light up the incoming wave of raiders. Step 4 was Make Noise With Loud Pew Pew and Scare Away The Bad Guys. How poetic, that over 200 years later she would be in such a similar situation. A downed vertibird, a minigun, and encroaching enemies. No sooner had she hefted the bulk of the gun then raiders flooded into the streets, drawn from the surrounding area by the recent fight. Now was the perfect time for a power landing. She’d always wanted to do one. Power armor was always reserved for infantry. Nobody gave the pilots anything fun. _Here’s a flight suit, don’t mind the artillery, try not to crash. Maybe someday you’ll get a pat on the head for your efforts and a neat medal._ She stood at the edge of the roof and pointed at the dog.

“Stay,” she told him firmly. “And remember, don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes. I mean it.” She could have sworn the animal gave her an annoyed side-eye before settling back on his haunches. With the grace of a drunk and blindfolded swan, Edun leaped from the roof of the Museum. She landed hard, cracking the asphalt and leaving a very satisfying dent in it. The blast of the landing sent several raiders flying, and Edun opened fire with the minigun. The armor made an incredible difference. She felt bullets _ptinging_ off of it harmlessly. No stealth required, just good old fashioned brute strength. Step 4 was going well. As their numbers declined, she saw more than one raider turn tail and run back in the direction they’d come from. She noted as she moved through Concord that one of the leg joints was pretty sticky. Considering that armor had been up there for 200 years, at the mercy of the elements, it was to be expected. Maybe once she dragged it back to Sanctuary she would find tools to do some repairs on it. She could manage that. She was pretty handy. Had to be. There wasn’t always a mechanic around if your bird had issues in the field.

She was nearly to the point of Concord where she’d first come in when she heard a bestial roar, and the sewer grate 50 feet from her went flying. A raider who had been fleeing from her minigun let out a scream, pivoted, and ran right back in her direction. What in the irradiated hell was she going to have to fight now? A crocodile with glowing green skin?

It was worse than that. Much worse. She stood there stupidly, watching, as the raider streaked past her. A creature that could best be described as a demon from the pits of hell clambered out of the grate. The hide was an oily, slick looking forest green - craggy and scaled, like a reptile’s. Two enormous horns crowned the hideous head, and the thing walked on it’s hind legs - using it’s long tail to balance. It trumpeted out another roar, and swept a long, clawed arm out - snagging another raider trying to flee. She watched in horror as the beast brought the man up and tore into him. The raider jerked like a puppet on drunken strings, and Edun was damn near positive the beast stared right at her while it tore out his throat.

Correction. Step 4 was no longer Make Noise With Loud Pew Pew and Scare Away The Bad Guys. Step 4 was now Make Poopy in Pants and Run Away, or Stand In Place and Hysterically Scream Until Crocodile Who Ate Dundee Now Eats Thee. Step 4 was officially _Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck._ Her goddamn grenades were in her pack on the rooftop. She had a minigun and a suit of armor with a locking leg. Well, it was a better chance than the now-headless raider was given. She opened fire, not waiting another second. The creature dropped the raider and advanced on her, bullets tearing into its hide. Still, it came. Her stomach did a flip-flop when it shoved a car out of its path on the way to her. She focused fire on the head and watched it tuck its chin before charging at her, full velocity. She kept firing, but it reached her despite the bullets flying. A sweeping arc of its arm knocked her on her back, skidding along the street and kicking up dust and gravel. She barely managed to hang on to the minigun. Whatever the damn thing was, it was _strong._ Step 4, subsection 1A, _Oh fuck._

It was on her in a second, the powerful claws ripping and tearing at her armor, seeking purchase on the hard steel. Her breaths came rapid and panicked inside her helmet. The HUD flickered in response to a particularly vicious swipe against the side of her head. She found herself wondering if this thing could rip off her head while she was _in_ the armor. _What a pleasant thought._ Terror seized her as she felt one of the claws hook under a plate and rip away a pauldron. _Oohh, that wasn’t good_ . She found herself thinking about the last time she’d eaten a crab, crunching the shell to get to the sweet meat inside, and realized she _was_ the crab now. If she managed to get out of this alive, she swore to herself she would never eat crab again. Not even on her birthday. Step 4, subsection 2A, _Extra fuck._

She heard the burst of laser fire coming from the balcony again. Preston was once again providing cover fire for her. With a snarl, the creature turned and looked up at the balcony. Laser fire pelted it’s hide, leaving little burn marks against the gleaming surface. It disengaged from Edun and ran towards the Museum. With it distracted, Edun clambered to her feet and spun up the minigun again. The beast was now sandwiched between laser fire and the minigun’s rounds, and she could see it slumping against the onslaught as more than one round found its way to something vital. It turned a malevolent golden eye on her, and she found herself irrationally saddened by the intelligence she saw there. The third lid shuttered, and the large creature collapsed to the ground. 

She stood in the middle of main street in shock. This had turned out to be the strangest day of her life. She thought she would pop into Concord, have a nice conversation with a few people, shake some hands, and be on her way to a Villain’s Lair. Instead, she’d been forced to kill a bunch of people and battle Beelzebub himself. She pulled the release lever on her suit, stepped out of it onto the ground, bent over, and emptied the contents of her breakfast onto the ground. The enormity of everything had chosen this exact moment to slam into her with the force of an atom bomb. Mom and dad were dead. Her siblings were dead. She’d stolen a woman’s identity to save her own ass - baby be damned, she knew in her heart what the real reason had been. She was human. Weak and flawed and damnably human. And now, on top of it all, she was surrounded by the bodies of people who had fallen at her hands. Soldier or not, this was some serious shit she’d just done. She heard a bark, and looked up to see the dog racing towards her as the survivors poured onto the street from the Museum. 

She stepped over her mess, embarrassed. Had they seen her lose her shit? These people were used to this kind of thing. She could see it in their weary faces, slumped shoulders, and eyes with the light of defeat in them. 

“Woah,” Preston said as he drew near. “A Deathclaw. I’ve...never seen one in person.”

“That makes two of us,” Edun said, placing her hands on her hips. “Please tell me they’re a very rare species of unicorn and I never have to go through this again.”

“As long as you avoid the glowing sea, you’re probably fine,” he assured her. _Wait… Glowing sea? A sea that glowed? That sounded cool. Except for the Deathclaw part._

“Glowing sea? For real?” she asked, unable to resist. Preston’s brows went up beneath the brim of his hat.

“You’re really not from around here, are you,” he commented.

“I’ve been in a vault since the day the bombs fell,” she explained. His brows crawled even farther up his forehead.

“How is that possible? That was hundreds of years ago.” 

“I was frozen. As to how I got there...it’s a long story, and I would be happy to explain it to you someday,” she sighed. 

“Of course. I didn’t mean to pry.” His dark eyes were apologetic. “Where do you plan to go from here?”

Edun spread her hands. “I actually came to Concord hoping to find someone who could help me figure that out.”

“You’re looking for someone,” the older woman, Mama Murphy, interjected. There was an eerie quality to her that left Edun feeling a little like she was standing on a kitchen chair fending off a spider with a broom. The woman had told her to be careful, that something _bad_ was coming… just before she went up to the roof. Edun didn’t believe in hocus pocus mumbo jumbo, but the prediction had sent gooseflesh racing up her spine. There was a surety to the woman’s words that she did not like one bit. “Someone… who was lost.”

“Yes. I’m looking for a child. He’s just a baby. Someone took him from the vault, and I couldn’t stop them. I need to get him back.”

“Ah, yes,” Mama closed her eyes and knit her brows. “He’s here...in the commonwealth. I can _feel_ his energy.” 

The way the woman spoke made Edun’s skin itch. “Right, his uh… energy. Do you know where they took him?”

She shook her head. “Sorry, kid, no. But I sense that you will find answers in Diamond City. The great green jewel of the commonwealth.”

“Someone stealing a kid sounds like the Institute’s handiwork,” Preston frowned. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about people being kidnapped by them.”

“The Institute?” Edun wrinkled her brow. “What is that? And why would they be kidnapping children?”

“Not just children, from what I’ve heard,” Preston replied. “Adults, too. Rumor has it they take people in the dead of night and replace them with synthetic versions of themselves. The replacements don’t even know that’s what they are, until one day...they snap.”

_That was alarming._ The last Edun knew, robotics were good, but nowhere near _that_ good. “That sounds like an old wive’s tale.” 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Preston shrugged. “I haven’t seen any of it firsthand. Only heard stories from other accounts. Either way, it sounds like Diamond City is the place to go for some answers.” 

“Why do I get the feeling it’s a long walk from here?” She groaned. She missed cars. Desperately.

“You can come with us for the time being,” Preston offered. “We’re heading to a place named Sanctuary. Mama had a vision of it being a safe place. Come with us. Have some dinner, get a good night’s sleep. You can reevaluate things in the morning.”

She looked down at the dog. “What do you think, buncakes? Dinner and a nap?” He nosed her hand eagerly, as though food was already in it.

“I see Dogmeat has taken a liking to you,” Mama commented, smiling.

“You know this dog? Is he yours?” Edun asked, surprised.

“Dogmeat is what you would call _his own man._ Looks like he’s chosen you. He’ll stick by your side from now on.” 

“Dogmeat, huh,” she rumpled his fur and he answered the affection with a doggy grin. She looked back to Preston. “Sure, we’ll come along. I just came from there. Not much left, looks pretty picked over...but it’s a good position. We could make it easily defensible.”

Preston smiled, his teeth white against his deep amber skin and his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had a good smile. Warm, inviting. “That’s great! We’d better get going, in case any stragglers come back.”

She talked with Preston more as they made their way out of Concord. She kept her eyes up, to the side, on Preston, anywhere but on the carnage they walked through. She was still more than a little appalled at the scene she’d created. She didn’t know she had it in her. She was just a pilot, leaning towards grease monkey tendencies. Preston, as though he could see her unease, tried to sooth her.

“They would have killed us or worse,” he said gently. “I don’t know how much you know about the Minutemen, but...you could say I’m the last of them. We were hit hard out at Quincy. Myself and the others you’ve met barely escaped with our lives. If it weren’t for you, we’d have been out of the pan and into the fire.”

“You seemed to be handling yourself pretty well up there,” she protested weakly. But she was grateful for his words. They were affirming that she’d made the right choice.

“You handled yourself pretty well, too. What are you, ex military?” 

She hadn’t thought about it in those terms, but she realized he was correct. She _was_ ex military. There was no military anymore. Even if there were, technically her contract was up a long damn time ago. The thought unsettled her, a little twist of grief in her heart. She’d been in it for the long haul since signing up at 18, green around the ears and ready for adventure. She’d planned to serve until she either died or retired. She liked the structure that came with military life. Everyone knew their place. Everything was neat, organized, planned. She was part of a bigger machine. The revelation that she was free of it now was a painful one. Edun felt as though she was floating on the ocean, a life preserver the only thing between her and the deep. Someone had cut the rope that kept her tied to her ship.

“Yeah,” she managed to get out, her vocal chords constricting. “Yeah, you could say that. Airforce. I was a vertibird pilot.” 

Preston let out a low whistle. “That explains your cool head in a fight. Can’t be easy keeping one of those in the air amidst fire.” 

“I’ve crashed two of them. Frankly it’s probably for the best I was tucked into the frozen food aisle. They’d likely have given me the boot for costing them so much money.” She was making light of things, as always. She was a decorated pilot and one of the best. She knew that, truly she did, but she hadn’t been the same in her head since going down in Anchorage. After she’d recovered from her injuries and hypothermia coupled with mild frostbite, her superiors had blessedly kept her busy with duties that kept her on the ground. 

“I somehow doubt that,” was his assertion. Despite herself, Edun smiled. She liked Preston. He had a calming presence about him. His voice had an effect like water running over smooth stones in the sunlight.

The passed the old Red Rocket again, and she heard Preston utter an exclamation of surprise as they crested the hill overlooking Sanctuary.

“I’ll be damned. It’s the old monument to the Minutemen. I _knew_ it was around Concord somewhere.” He pointed, his excitement growing. “That means this here must be the old North bridge, where the first shots of the American Revolution were fired! I’d call that the best omen we’ve had since we left Quincy.” 

“Boss,” drawled Sturges from behind them, “I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about, but if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

With the mood considerably lighter the farther they got from Concord, the group clomped across the old bridge and into their new home.


	7. Not That Big of a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edun has a phobia. So does Preston.

“I haven’t been this beat since Junior year volleyball,” Edun groaned. She sat across from Preston at the rickety kitchen table, alternating between eating bites of stew and dropping chunks of carrot onto the floor for Dogmeat. She goddamn _hated_ carrots. When Preston had asked her to help him rebuild the Minutemen and assist settlers, she’d expected maybe scaring off the occasional raider or helping plow a field. Playing one-man-army in an old plant full of god knows what was another matter entirely. If she was going to find Church’s kid, she needed to keep her arms and legs attached to her body. The raiders infesting the old Corvega plant might be dead now, but it wasn’t without taking more than a few chunks out of her in the process of dead-ing them.

“And now I’ve got to drag my ass to Diamond City. Why do I get the feeling I’m going to run into more than a few irradiated nasties along the way? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“Then I’ll come with you,” Preston said simply, pushing his empty bowl away. He’d eaten every piece of carrot. _Disgusting._ “We’ve got a couple turrets set up, and that Mr Handy of yours is capable in a fight. Our people will be safe here while we take a little trip.” _Our people. He said our people._ The thought somehow made her feel warm all over. It was good to be a part of something again. She felt suddenly guilty for whining. Preston was doing his best to rebuild after surviving an incredibly painful and traumatic massacre, and here she was squawking about not wanting to go on a walk alone. Technically she wasn’t ever truly alone, now. Not with Dogmeat practically an extension of her ankles.

“Are you sure? I feel bad asking. I know you’ve got your hands full here.” She was giving him an out, but he shook his head.

“It’s fine. I understand. I don’t expect you to be some kind of super soldier. The fact that you have even been willing to help us says enough about you. Too many people won’t lift a finger to assist others unless there’s something to be gained from it.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere with me,” she teased. She dropped another carrot for Dogmeat, who miscalculated the velocity. The lump of stew landed on top of his head while he sniffed at the floor, and she chortled when he jumped and shook himself. 

“Well, that’s good to hear, because I’ve got something I need from you,” Preston said, his eyes turning more serious.

“Oh, I don’t like the sound of that,” Edun said lightly, cocking her head. “What now? You need me to defeat an army of ten thousand ghouls?”

“I want you to take the position of General of the Minutemen.”

Edun just stared at him, frozen in the middle of dropping another carrot onto the floor for Dogmeat. 

“Come again?”

“I want you to be General of the Minutemen,” Preston reiterated firmly. Edun’s carrot plopped to the floor and she slowly set down her spoon.

“And...Why me? Why not you? You seem a lot more qualified, considering you’ve _been_ a Minuteman since you were _seventeen_. Not to mention you’re a lot more capable in combat and a better shot than me.”

“I need someone the people will believe in,” Preston said softly, his eyes shadowed. “They lost their faith in me when Quincy fell to the Gunners.”

“That is absurd. There was nothing you could have done to change the things that happened.”

He shrugged. “Their perception is what it is. I can’t change it. But I believe you can. I believe you are the one to turn things around and rebuild us.”

She ran a hand through her hair and let out a long breath. “If anyone but you had asked this of me, Preston, I don’t rightly know that I’d accept. But since it’s you...Fine. Okay. I’ll be your General. _For now_. But if you call me anything but Edun, I will smack you upside the head.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

“You really know how to put a daunting task before a girl.”

“I have the utmost faith in your capabilities… and your character,” he said seriously. Edun felt her cheeks grow warm at the praise, and decided it was time to make an expedient escape before she got all blubby on him. She stretched and feigned a yawn, rising from her chair.

“I guess we’ll turn in for the night. Dogmeat looks as tired as I am. Shall we head out first thing in the morning?”

“Sounds good to me,” Preston answered, scooping up her bowl along with his and standing. He wandered off to the kitchen to rinse the dishes with the bucket of water placed in the old sink, and Edun headed out of the patched up house. The others were all winding down for the evening, too. The spring cool air was crisp against her skin. As she walked along the road, she could hear the low murmur of voices. Marcy and Jun, speaking in hushed and anguished whispers. Marcy was a hard woman with an acid tongue, but Edun held no animosity towards her over it. Preston had filled her in on the situation. The woman had lost everything. Her livelihood, her only child, her sense of safety and security. She was loud and angry whereas Jun was broken, quiet, and withdrawn. Edun understood. She had seen her share of soldiers struggling through grief, trauma, and PTSD. Everyone reacted to pain differently. She would never put the burden of faking a smile on anyone who was suffering like Marcy was. She Made sure to give the woman a wide berth, let her have her space, and kept her interactions with the woman polite. Their voices faded as she continued on, until there was no sound but the chatter of the machine guns as they oscillated on their pedestals.

She had nothing grandiose in mind for Step 5. Right now, Step 5 was Go Bathe In the River, Edun, You Stink. Subsection 5A: Wash the Stew Off of the Poor Dog. She stopped by her chosen house, grabbing a change of clean clothes and a tattered towel. She’d been all over the commonwealth today. At Preston’s behest, she’d stopped by Tenpines Bluff and spoke with the settlers there earlier in the morning. Then it was a matter of following the train tracks to Lexington and tangling with a _lot_ more raiders than she’d bargained for. She hadn’t made it out unscathed. She’d used two of her precious stimpacks. She’d found herself pinned down in the assembly room of the plant, bleeding. One of the aggressive little bastards had shot her in the calf, and she’d had to drag herself behind one of the old car bodies for cover while she injected the stim. Only hacking a protectron for a distraction had bought her the time she needed for the stimpack to slow the bleeding, and to find higher ground for return fire. The second stim she’d used when exiting the plant, thinking it was clear, and a raider beaned her with a piece of scrap board as she passed his hiding place. The board had left a nasty gash at the base of her skull. Bottom line was, she was tired and sweaty and dirty and completely over the clothing she was in.

The river was colder than she would like, and imagined she looked like a plucked chicken as she waded in and began to douse herself. Preston had been kind enough to share a bar of soap with her, and she lathered herself greedily with it. She missed hot water and the luxury of a sponge, but this would do. She worked the suds through her hair, flinching away from contacting the tight skin where she was missing hair still. She’d never done anything about it, and now it was too late. She didn’t imagine there were doctors at every corner around here offering services like follicle therapy. Dogmeat eyed her skeptically from his vantage point on the bank.

“Come on, cutiebaby,” she cajoled, splashing the water invitingly. She could almost imagine him arching an eyebrow at her in the dim light. “If you let me wash you, I'll give you a snack cake after,” she promised him. His ears pricked at that, and he stood up, pacing to the edge of the water. He was a smart cookie, that one. Already he’d proven himself a valiant battle buddy, hamstringing ghouls while she was occupied with not getting torn apart. Sometimes he would lead her to various treasures, too. A med kit tucked in an abandoned fridge. Ammo in an old crate. That sort of thing. He was waiting for something, and she rolled her eyes and gave a frustrated splash. “Fine. _Two_ snack cakes. You’re going to become quite fat if this is how you always negotiate, sir.” 

Dogmeat leaped into the water and waded over to her. She found herself grinning as she scooped up water in her cupped hands and poured it over him. She rather liked the smell of wet dog. It was a silly little mundane thing that reminded her of better times. He held completely still, patient and stoic. No doubt thinking about all his future snack cakes. She made idle conversation as her fingers worked the soap through his thick fur.

“I don’t know why these people keep helping me and asking me to help them,” she confided. “I don’t have anything to offer them. I’m not some kind of badass with the strength and speed of Grognak. I’m just some pilot who ended up in the wrong place at the right time. I’m not...That big of a deal.” 

Dogmeat looked up at that, turning his head and licking her elbow as if to say, _You’re a big deal to me._ She gave him a big kiss on his soapy head, and he answered it with a wag.

  
  
  


Morning came, and Edun staggered about the house trying to compose herself. She was still adjusting to life without coffee. Going from four cups a day to zero was not a trauma mitigated at all by being frozen. It would seem you thawed out and still kept your caffeine dependency intact. There was so little mercy to be found in life. There were plenty of vices that had survived the bombs, but coffee was not one of them. Her hair, left to air dry half-squished into a sleeping bag, felt a fright beneath her hands. She resolved to try and braid it into some normalcy before terrorizing the others with it. Dogmeat was the only one who would look at her with eyes blinded by love. She staggered into the bathroom, yawning, and scrubbed at the worn mirror with the end of her sleeve. 

As the grime cleared away, she was faced with her reflection for the first time since the day the bombs fell. She turned her head, examining the scars. They reminded her of the view from a vertibird; the way fields lined up against each other like a haphazard patchwork quilt. The scars were dark against her light olive skin, somehow looking even more stark with the waves of nut brown hair falling about her face. Doctors had assured her they would fade naturally in time, and prescribed her a cream that would hasten their dissolution, but Edun had never filled it. It felt wrong to erase this reminder from her body. Like it would somehow tarnish the significance of Church’s death. Her hazel eyes had a hollow look to them. She hadn’t slept well since the vault, adjusting to no coffee and sleeping on the ground. 

She raked her fingers through the mess, trying to give it some semblance of order before pulling it into a tight french braid and tying it off with a strip of fabric. There wasn’t much to be done about the dark circles under her eyes. She would adjust in time and lose the scarecrow look. She hoped. At least she was relatively clean now.

Preston was waiting for her by the Sanctuary Hills sign when she finally made it out of her house. He tipped his hat to her in a silly motion, and they set off for The Great Green Jewel - opting to traipse cross-country rather than follow along the road. Cutting through the landscape at times was a much faster route. Preston had made the journey to the city a handful of times, he explained, and knew the commonwealth well. They ran into a few bloat flies near a cluster of trees, and passed a herd of wild Brahmin in a field, grazing lazily. Edun had to admit that she was a little jumpy out in the commonwealth. A part of her was just waiting for another Deathclaw to pop out at them. She couldn’t imagine tangling with one sans power armor. That was a sure way to die.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Preston said as they climbed through an old barbed wire fence at the top of a hill. He held the strands of wire apart and waited for her to climb through before they swapped positions.

“I was just thinking about how unpleasant it would be to be eaten by a Deathclaw out here,” she groused.

“As long as you can run faster than me, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

She appraised him, and saw his eyes were sparkling. “Preston, are you offering up yourself as a Deathclaw snack? How noble of you.” 

They continued on down the hill, crossing a small stream and trying to avoid getting their boots wet. It was easier for Preston, with his long legs. Edun ended up with wet socks when the rock she leaped to wobbled and tipped. She found herself grimacing with every wet _squelch_ as she walked. They walked past Abernathy farm and through a heavily wooded area. Most of the ancient trees were dead, but there were many younger trees pushing their way through the soil and refusing to accept their predecessor’s lots. Edun could see the potential in the land. It was slowly recovering from the damage done. No matter how hard humans tried to destroy all good things, plants were hopeful. They found a way to spring back to life. Before the bombs fell, the commonwealth had been a lush paradise of tall trees. Maybe in time, it would be that way again. 

Edun broke from her ruminations to crow with excitement, having spotted a cluster of wild mutfruit bushes. Preston paused, the picture of patience, while Edun picked and ate her fill. Mutfruit was probably the tastiest thing you could find growing in the commonwealth, and if you didn’t mind taking a couple rads, it was worth stopping and enjoying while fresh and ripe. Besides, she’d completely forgotten about breakfast that morning and her body was protesting the abuse. To be fair, there wasn’t much that was appetizing about a cabinet of Cram and Pork N Beans. She might rather starve.

“You know, you _did_ tell me that someday you’d explain how you ended up in that vault,” Preston prompted, watching while she licked juice from her fingers greedily.

So she had. And she supposed now was as good of a time as any, with a long walk ahead of them. She might as well start at the beginning.

“Do you know about the liberation of Alaska?” she asked him.

“Yes, of course. It was the beginning of the end from what I know of history.”

“Right. Well, I was stationed there during the final push. For me, the events leading to the vault began there. That day, we were running a load of ammunition from the docks to the American line when a missile hit our bird.”

She told him about the crash, and Church - going light on the details for both his sake and hers. She hadn’t spoken of it with anyone since, with the exception of her debriefing after the rescue. She explained her need to see Nora and tell her about her husband’s last moments, to return the photo he’d kept with him always. She told him about the woman’s eerie final words just before the bombs dropped, and about taking the baby and running for the vault. When she was done, she wiped mutfruit juice from her hand and pulled the photo of Nora from her pocket. She showed it to Preston. He took it with careful fingers and looked at it for a long moment before handing it back to Edun.

“You pre-war types are really something,” he said, shaking his head.

“Preston, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“I just mean...you all look so different. Healthy, happy. Not ravaged by war or radiation…” He trailed off then, and she knew he was looking at the patchwork of scars on the side of her face. She met his eyes. He looked terribly embarrassed, shifting his gaze away. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m not ravaged by war,” she said quietly.

“I am so sorry,” he looked mortified. “I didn’t mean to put my foot in my mouth.”

She waved him off with a hand. “Jeez, Preston, you look like you swallowed a toad. It’s fine. I’m aware of what I look like.” 

He looked as though he wanted to say something more, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of something rustling in the trees behind them. Edun tensed, as though pulled taut like a wire, when Dogmeat let out a bark of warning. She turned, hand on the pistol at her hip, feeling slow as though underwater. A monstrosity rose from among the mutfruit bushes a good twenty feet away. It looked vaguely like a bear. It was the rough mass of a bear. But where there should be thick fur, there was tough and hairless hide; pock-marked and scabby with sores and warped by mutation. It stood on its hind legs, nearing eight feet tall at full height, and let out a bestial roar at them. She could see strings of saliva stranded between rows of sharp, filthy teeth. The mouth of a carnivore. Edun’s body would not respond. She was frozen with terror. In all her wildest nightmares she had never expected to find a bear in this new world, and one ravaged by radiation… even less so. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Her body was a prison as fear paralyzed her. She forgot all her training and stood there uselessly, her heart beating in her ears and downing all else out. 

The bear dropped back onto all fours and charged towards them, shouldering aside the mutfruit bushes as though they were mere feathers in its way. Still Edun was frozen. Dimly, behind her, she heard Preston yelling something to her - sounding like the garbled speaker of a drive-through window. She could not answer. Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. Bright light - the flash of laser fire - streaking past in her periphery, pelting the animal with white-hot beams. It was nearly on them, and she watched dumbly as Dogmeat launched himself at the bear, latching on at the neck and shaking his head violently side to side. She saw the bear stumble, trying to shake off the dog and caving under the laser fire assault. It tumbled to a stop just a few feet before her and lay still. 

A figure blocked the sun. Preston, standing in front of her and gripping her upper arms. Shaking her gently, trying to snap her back to the present. She realized she was hyperventilating, her mouth gaping open like a fish and sucking in air desperately. Slowly, Preston’s voice penetrated the debilitating fog around her.

“Edun, focus on me. Listen to my voice. It’s fine. You’re okay. The yao guai is dead now. We got it.”

Her eyes snapped up, registering his words, and she fought for control over herself. She was wheezing like an asthmatic in a pollen parade. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on slowing her breathing. Unsure of how to deal with her, no doubt puzzled by her reaction to the bear in light of her obliterating a Deathclaw just days ago, Preston rubbed her upper arms. He murmured a string of assurances, soothing her, until she was able to move again and her tongue unglued itself. She realized she was shaking - a low-level tremor running through her. No wonder Preston looked so freaked out. 

“Sorry,” she gasped at last. “I have a crippling fear of bears. Literally, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I gathered as much,” came his soft reply. “Guess it’s a good thing you dragged me out here with you, huh?” 

She laughed shakily, and seeing the tension leaving her, Preston released her and stepped back, giving her space.

“I’ve been scared to death of them most of my life,” she admitted, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead. “It’s why I didn’t go camping. Like, ever. I can’t sleep in something flimsy like a tent, not when something like…that...” she gestured at the dead animal, “is out to eat me. What did you call it again?” 

“A yao guai,” Preston answered. “I think in your time you knew them as black bears.” 

She suppressed a shudder, stepping father away from the heap on the ground. As sick with terror as she’d been, there was still a part of her that regretted being here. They’d walked right into the creature’s territory and stayed for a snack.

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly very uncomfortable. “One moment I’m shooting down Deathclaws and clearing raiders out of Corvega, and the next I’m like a helpless toddler needing rescuing. You must think you made the mistake of the century about now, choosing me for your General.”

“You’re not the only one with a phobia,” Preston told her kindly. “I have one, too.”

“Oh? What is the mighty and fearless Preston Garvey afraid of?”

The corners of his mouth quirked. “Snakes.”

“ _Please_ tell me there aren’t giant irradiated snakes here. Preston I swear to god I’ll climb right back into that cryo pod.”

“If there were, I’d climb right in with you,” he laughed. “But no. Just...regular snakes. You don’t see them too often. They are rare in the Commonwealth now. When I was a kid, before my parents…” He trailed off for a moment, and she saw his eyes cloud over. “Well, when I was a kid, I remember waking in the night to something shifting against me. I unzipped my sleeping bag, and there was a snake curled up in there beside me. It was long and black, too cold from the chill in the air to react to me, but I _screamed._ I screamed and I screamed and I screamed as though a Deathclaw had torn through my tent. My parents came running, terrified I was being murdered, and when they saw the snake they just...laughed. They thought it was so funny.”

He shook his shoulders, unsettled by the memory. “After that, I couldn’t sleep through the night. I was terrified another would crawl into my sleeping bag and bite me. I’d have nightmares about it and wake up thrashing. Honestly, even now, sometimes a shoelace in the right lighting makes me a little nervous.” 

“Well, I’m glad I’m not alone in this,” she smiled. And she was glad. Solidarity was a comforting thing indeed. “Tell you what. You protect me from… yao guais and I’ll protect you from snakes.”

“It must be my lucky day, to have a bodyguard such as you.” He was smiling widely, his eyes crinkling as they did only in moments of true joy.

“Damn right. Now let’s get the hell out of here in case this poor fella has friends.”


	8. Step 6: Steal Soldier Boy’s Sweet Suit

They were nearing the old Cambridge campus when Edun’s pip boy picked up radio chatter. Curious, she zeroed in on the frequency and turned up the volume. A woman’s voice came on.

_ “This is Scribe Haylen of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range. Authorization Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties and we’re running low on supplies. We’re requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station. Automated message repeating…”  _

Edun looked over to Preston. “You guys still have military here?” There was a longing flutter in her chest at the thought. Oh, to soar through the skies again… far above the detritus of the commonwealth. She was surprised any of the branches had survived with the collapse of the United States, but Preston shook his head.

“No. No military presence anywhere as far as I’ve seen. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that transmission is related to members of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“The Brotherhood of Steel?” Edun queried, wrinkling her nose. “Never heard of them.”

“I don’t imagine you would have, being frozen as you were,” Preston shrugged. “The Brotherhood is as close to Military as you can get. Organized, well-equipped, trying to bring order to the land...albeit  _ conditional _ order.”

“Conditional order?”

“Let’s just say they don’t much care for anyone who isn’t exactly like them. Humans are their priority. They see ghouls as creatures to be put down to spare them suffering. Even the non-feral ones, who are as cognizant as you or I. They have a vested interest in any and all technology, too. If you have it, they’ll take it. For  _ your own good _ . They’re… kind of a mixed bag. There are good things and bad. That’s all I know. They brought order back to the Capital Waste, so I suppose that’s something.” He looked pensive. “If you want to check it out and help them, you know I’ve got your back. Just...be careful. It’s a little like holding the tail of a dog. It might bite you as soon as lick you.”

“Dogmeat would never bite me,” she said, turning to look down at the mutt and switching into her special voice reserved only for him. “Would you fwuffy cheekums?” She squished the dog’s furry cheeks with both hands and he grinned up at her, eyes full of adoration. After a minute of crooning and squishing, Preston uttered a polite cough and Edun rose from her crouch. “Okay, well, we’re in the area. Might as well check it out. Protect the people at a minute’s notice, and all that jazz.”

As they approached the old police department, Edun could hear shouting and laser fire. Drawn by the noise, swarms of ghouls were converging on the building and climbing over the low barricades that were set up around the perimeter. Dogmeat was growling, hackles raised, as they encroached on the old building. At 50 yards out, Preston and Edun opened fire. Some of the ghouls redirected their attention, turning on spindly limbs and charging towards the twosome. Edun would never quite get over the fact these ghouls were once people, no different than she or Preston, before the radiation warped and destroyed their minds. Was this her future, in an irradiated waste? She didn’t know much about science, but there was an undercurrent of concern that ran through her whenever she encountered a ghoul. She wondered if it was a slow transition, easy as slipping lower into a warm bath until only your nose broke the water. Were they aware as the change overtook them? And if so, why did they allow it to happen? 

Edun was reminded of her grandmother. The last time she had seen her, Mimi didn’t know her own name, let alone recognize Edun. She was 94 years old, frail and brittle, hunched over in her chair. She was in the final stages of Lewy Body Dementia, and was nearly incoherent. Edun had sworn to herself on her way home from that place that she would never let the same thing happen to her. She couldn’t imagine - would not imagine- such a fate for herself. She could understand the fear of taking one’s own life, but Edun had no qualms about it. She supposed that mentality came with being somewhat hardened by her life in service. Former service, she reminded herself again.

It seemed they had arrived just in time, for the soldiers were struggling to keep back the tide of ghouls as they threw themselves over the barricades with guttural cries and howls. She could see one soldier down, leaning up against the building while another tended to him. One man in a full suit of power armor fought the ghouls back, laser rifle filling the air with flashes. Edun could smell burned hair and flesh as the shots tore through the encroaching ghouls, and fought the urge to gag. There was one point in favor of good old fashioned lead bullets...they didn’t singe the meat of your enemies and grace you with the aroma. They cleared their way into the enclosed area, fighting side by side with the lone soldier. The waves of ghouls gradually subsided, until it was down to a couple stragglers at a time, and then one, and then no more. The ground around them was piled high with the cracked and twisted bodies. There was something about them that almost reminded her of piles of autumn leaves - dry and fragile in appearance, varying colors.  _ Way to ruin your favorite season for yourself. _

“I appreciate the assist, citizen,” a rich and deep voice said from behind her as she stared at the piles of ghouls. “But state your business here.”

She turned, and watched as the soldier slowly removed his helmet. He was wearing some sort of jumpsuit and hood under the armor, but a lock of thick dark hair had escaped his cowl. He had piercing dark eyes - hard and calculating where Preston’s were warm and kind. A scar slotted one eyebrow, and his mouth, though generous, was pulled into a thin frown. He was a soldier, every inch of him. She’d known hundreds like him. Stalwart and powerful, self-assured and capable. She’d served alongside them, feeling a bit like an awkward and bumbling buffoon, but no less willing to strive for their standard of perfection. His presence immediately made her feel small, and it wasn’t simply due to their height discrepancy as she looked up at him. She was surprised at the yearning she felt in her chest, being around people so similar to the military she’d known and loved.

His power armor, though an older model, was meticulously maintained. The metal shone in the light, and as he moved around in it she could tell by the sound of the whirring gears and smooth hydraulics that it had been kept in top condition. He held a large laser rifle, and Edun could not be sure but she thought she could see something engraved on the stock around the gloved fingers of his gauntleted hand. Oh, the things she could do with a suit of power armor like that... Step 6: Steal Soldier Boy’s Sweet Suit. Preferably while he was unconscious and heavily drugged. He’d squash her head like an overripe grape between those big steel mitts otherwise.

“Ah, yes, right,” she held out her hand. “I’m Edun, General of the Minutemen. We heard the distress signal and responded to the request for aid.”

“And what are you doing out here, listening to private military channels?” The man asked, one eyebrow arching at her. He didn’t take her hand. He was trying to establish if he could trust her, she could see that. She let her hand fall.

“We are on our way to Diamond City and made the detour to help you. My apologies if the help was unwanted.” 

“I don’t mean to sound suspicious,” he amended, sighing. “Our mission here has been fraught with difficulties. Since the moment we arrived here, we’ve been under constant fire.” He paused and looked down at where Dogmeat was sniffing him intently, his black nose leaving a wet print on the shiny metal of the suit.

“It hasn’t been the most welcoming place to me, either,” Edun admitted, snapping her fingers at Dogmeat. He continued sniffing, looking distinctly unrepentant. 

“You are new to the commonwealth as well?” the man asked.

“Yep. I am from a vault. I was… frozen in cryo for 200 years.”

His eyes went wide. “Then you are from... _ before the war _ . Before the bombs.”

“That’s me. Perfectly preserved and officially an antique.”

“That’s incredible,” he breathed, distracted by the revelation. “Our scribes would love to ask you a thousand questions, I’m sure…”

“Well, before you set me up on that date, I’d still like an introduction,” she prompted lightly.

“Of course,” he looked chagrined at his rudeness. “I am Paladin Danse, of the Brotherhood of Steel. That is Scribe Haylen, and Knight Rhys,” he gestured at the two soldiers against the building. “We are here on recon duty, but I’m down a man and our supplies are running low. We have been unable to send a distress call back to my superiors. Our signal is too weak out here to reach them.”

“This is Preston Garvey, my second in command. The gentleman sniffing your leg so studiously is Dogmeat, my personal assistant.”

Danse wrinkled his brow, not realizing she was joking, as he peered down at the dog. Dogmeat seemed to be satisfied with his investigation, and roamed over to Rhys and Haylen, observing Haylen as she bandaged Rhys’ arm.

“Sir, if I may,” Haylen ventured, looking over at them. “I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I’m afraid it just isn’t enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal. Something a lot more powerful.”

“We have intel on a deep range transmitter close by,” Danse explained, turning back to Edun. “ArcJet System has the technology we need in order to boost our signal. You’ve proven yourselves capable in a fight. If you are amenable to it, I would like to request your assistance in retrieving the transmitter. I am down a man and have another injured, and could use the backup.” 

Edun and Preston exchanged a look, and then she turned her eyes back to Danse. “Give us a moment, if that’s alright?” Danse nodded and walked back over to his teammates.

“Thoughts? Objections?” Edun asked Preston in a low voice. “I don’t know if this falls under your umbrella of helping in a minute’s notice.” 

“This Paladin Danse seems forthright enough,” Preston mused. “But it’s not him I am worried about so much as the rest of his friends. Still, it sounds like if we help them… we might be getting rid of them peacefully, along with any problems they bring.”

“Good point,” Edun chewed on her lip. “Are you okay going with us? I don’t want to drag you into a firefight and put you at risk if it’s not a risk you want to take. We don’t know what we will find in ArcJet.” 

“There could be bears in there,” Preston ventured, his mouth curving into a devilish smile. “And I promised to protect you from them.”

She punched him in the arm, just hard enough to make him laugh and rub at his bicep regretfully.

Paladin Danse was waiting patiently and making small talk with Scribe Haylen when Edun and Preston finished their debate.

“Alright,” Edun said, climbing a few of the steps. “Dogmeat thinks it’s a bad idea, but Preston and I hold the majority vote. We’re in.”

She saw Danse glance at the dog, looking somewhat startled and suspicious, before he nodded. He flipped his helmet in the air before catching it and placing it back on his head.

“Excellent. Let’s move out. Haylen, Rhys, stay in contact. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Roger that,” Haylen answered as the group moved out of the old department compound.

They followed Danse out of Cambridge and up the road they’d just walked down a short while ago. Danse kept up a steady stream of chatter, explaining his team’s mission and the Brotherhood’s creed. He was clearly both dedicated and devout in their cause. Edun didn’t really hold a particular stance on the belief technology was evil and must be controlled, but she could see the merit to it.

“Do you think he’ll make us drop and give him twenty if we give him any attitude?” she whispered to Preston as they walked along.

“Let’s hope not,” he whispered back. “I’m not sure I could manage so much as five.”

Danse paused and looked back at them, sensing they were lagging behind, and they put on their serious faces and picked up the pace.

-

  
  


“This is a synth?” She crouched beside the jumble of broken parts that had been, until all three of them shot it at the same time, a walking and talking construct. 

“Yes. An abomination of science,” Danse spat somewhat forcefully. Edun was surprised at the vitriol in his voice. He seemed to be a firm but mild man, until something ruffled his Brotherhood jimmies.

“These are from the Institute? The people that took Shaun?” She lifted her eyes to Preston, asking.

“Looks like it,” Preston said. “I’ve never seen one in person before. Only heard stories. Hard to believe there are ones out there that look and act just like us.”

“There are?” Edun asked, rising to her feet again. She’d seen enough. Even when...deactivated...the eyes on the machine at her feet creeped her out. “You’re telling me any of us could be one, and not know it?” 

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like one of the fancy folks in Diamond City already,” Preston cautioned.

“This is exactly the sort of thing the Brotherhood aims to put a stop to,” Danse interjected. “Men who play god, and the havoc they wreak with their technology.”

“So are the synths that look like us...evil? Or are they unwitting participants?” Edun prodded. “What would the point be in placing them among us?”

Preston raised his hands in the air, helpless. “I really don’t know, Edun. Maybe when we get to Diamond City we can find someone who has the answers to those questions.”

Danse made a sound somewhat like a growl. “We should keep moving. We are standing here like stationary targets.” 

“Fine, fine, okay. Walk now, ask later. Got it.” Edun brushed her dusty hands off on her pants and pulled her rifle forward again. They pushed deeper into ArcJet. There were many more synths here, crawling through the ruined building. They were looking for something. Likely the same something she and the others were here for. She thought about Shaun growing up in a place full of those things, and it made her skin crawl. That was no way for a child to grow up. She imagined the Institute to be something like an asylum. Sterile, devoid of warmth, bustling scientists and machines. Shaun, left in a crib of cold white sheets and steel bars, left to cry while they ran a barrage of experiments on him. She didn’t know if her mental image was accurate. More than likely she’d simply seen far too many scary sci-fi flicks. Still, he might not be her kid but she wouldn’t leave any child to that fate.

“Engine core should be ahead,” Danse said as they walked down some steps leading to another steel door. “We’re close, now.” 

This far in, the place was running on emergency power - only a few flood lights illuminated the long, dark shaft that opened up beyond the corridor. A metal staircase spiraled down to the bottom. Edun had a feeling they wouldn’t be alone down here for long, not with all the synths they’d encountered on their way through the building. As Danse and Preston went on ahead down the stairs, Edun placed a few frag mines along the platforms and down the stairs. If anyone tried to flank them or follow them, they’d be in for a nasty surprise. Danse was waiting for her at the bottom, and if he had a comment on her tactics he didn’t share it.

“There has to be a power backup system somewhere. Scout the maintenance area off the main chamber. I’ll remain here and watch our backs,” he asserted.  _ Bossy, wasn’t he?  _ Edun just shrugged and ducked down a hall that looked like it would lead to the windowed maintenance area. Dogmeat trotted ahead, and Preston followed, leaving the Paladin alone. In the maintenance room, behind the generators, was a terminal. After a minute of trying to figure out the password, Edun successfully hacked in. 

“Thanks for the help,” she said reproachfully to Dogmeat, who rolled his eyes at her and nosed through clutter on the floor with interest. 

“There’s a big red button in here,” Preston called from the other room. “Wonder what it does?” 

“Big red buttons are never a good thing,” Edun called back, tabbing through the menu options until she found the option to restore the main power. She froze when the boom of a frag mine going off reverberated through the building.

“We’ve got company!” Preston yelled, and Edun could hear the sound of Danse’s laser rifle firing. “More synths! They’re everywhere!”

She sprinted to where Preston stood. More booms of frag mines going off, and pieces of synths rained down from the winding stairs above. She wished she’d set more mines. There were too many of them. She looked down at the red button Preston had mentioned.  _ Engine Start  _ it said beneath in white block lettering. She thought about what she knew of power armor. The suits were made to withstand incredible heat and cold, and offered excellent protection from radiation and explosions. Synths were piling on top of Paladin Danse, clinging to his armor and trying to pry away pieces of plating. It was like one of those nature videos showing a pack of hyenas trying to take down an elephant, but even an elephant could only withstand so many hyenas. Edun slammed her fist down on the red button, and prayed Danse’s armor would hold under the abuse. It was the only way any of them were leaving here alive. An automated voice began a five second count-down.

“Duck behind something!” She ordered Preston. The hallway was open. The blast may well be able to reach them here. The three of them ran back into the second room, tucking behind the concrete wall. There was a roar, and even behind the concrete wall Edun could feel a blast of heat and wind rip down the tunnel. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes against the grit pelting her face. After a few seconds, the noise died down, and an efficiency report sounded from the mainframe.  _ Please be alive,  _ she thought as she stepped out of cover and ran back down the maintenance tunnel. Danse was crouched in a corner, and Edun was flooded with relief as she watched him slowly clamber back to his feet. Around him, the synth remains were barely recognizable. The plastic and polymer components were completely melted away, and only twisted metal circuitry and metal remained. There wasn’t a single synth left standing. Edun made her way over to Danse.

“Holy shit, that was effective,” she breathed. “Are you okay? I trusted your power armor to protect you, but that blast was… hotter and longer than I’d expected it to be. I was worried you were toast.”

“I got a little cooked by those flames,” Danse ground out, sounding out of breath. “But thanks to my power armor, I’m still in one piece. You were correct in your decision. It was a sound tactical choice, given the circumstances.”

“I owe you a beer,” Edun joked weakly, fist bumping the arm of his suit before yowling in regret. It was smoking hot to the touch, and her knuckles turned an immediate and angry red. Shit, that was going to blister.

“Indeed,” Danse said drily. “The important thing is that we’re still alive, and we now have a way to get to the transmitter. Let’s get moving.” 

They crowded into the now-functioning elevator, and Edun pressed the button to go up.

“This sounds like a bad joke,” she commented as the elevator began its ascent. “A Paladin, a Vaultie, a Minuteman, and a dog all get in an elevator.”

“The Vaultie says, ‘What floor, sir?’ and the Paladin answers, ‘to Victory’.” Preston quipped. Edun choked on a snort, Dogmeat barked, and Danse was silent inside his helmet. No doubt still being broody and all business.

Silence stretched out for what felt like a thousand years, and then the elevator chimed and opened. There was a handful of synths waiting in the control room beyond, but the three of them and a barking Dogmeat made short work of the machines. 

“Damn it,” Danse said, striding through the control room and knocking chairs and boxes aside as he searched. “I don’t see the device anywhere.”

Edun followed, assisting in the search. At the back of the room, splayed out and missing an arm, was a destroyed synth. Lying a few feet away was the missing arm, and the mechanical fingers were still curled around an electronic device. Edun bent down and prised open the jointed fingers, holding the device up for Danse to see.

“This what you’re looking for?” She called to him.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, stomping over to take it from her. “Let’s get out of here before more synths show up. We can take the service elevator out.” 

They rode the elevator back up. This one was even smaller, and they were sandwiched in tightly like sardines. Edun refrained from making more jokes. She was likely one dad joke away from Danse shooting her, too.

Back outside ArcJet, Danse paused, removing his helmet, then turned to her.

“Well, that could have gone smoother, but mission accomplished.”

“Smoother? Listen, if this is about me roasting you like a Christmas duck...I’m sorry. I think we made a pretty good team otherwise.” Edun grinned.

“We’re both alive and the transmitter is secured. That’s what matters. There are two matters to discuss. Firstly, your compensation for the assistance.”

He extended an arm, and in it he held his laser rifle. “This rifle is my own personal modification of a standard Brotherhood laser rifle. It will serve you well.” 

“Are you...Sure you won’t need it?” Edun asked, taking the weapon carefully.

“I have many other weapons at my disposal,” the Paladin said dismissively. “Keep it. It’s yours now.”

“And the other matter?” Edun asked as she clipped the weapon to her pack.

“I want to make you a proposal. We had a lot thrown at us back there, and you proved yourself to be cool-headed and capable in a fight. You handled it like a soldier. The Brotherhood could use someone like you. I have no doubt you would make a valuable asset to our organization. The way I see it, you’ve got a choice. You could spend the rest of your life wandering from place to place, trading an extra hand for a meager reward. Or, you could join us...and make your mark on the world.”

Behind her, Edun heard a disapproving grunt from Preston. He was still worried about these people. Edun was surprised at the proposal. Shocked, even. She hadn’t expected the stiff Paladin to make her such an offer. Her first instinct was to say yes. Her separation from a life of service to the USAF had left a dull ache under her ribs. She’d lost her sense of purpose. Even now, with the goals of rebuilding the Minutemen and finding the kid...she felt empty. Lonely. Separated from her people and the values they fought for. To be welcomed into a military-like organization again...to become part of something once more...it was terribly tempting. A small voice in the back of her mind cautioned her.  _ You don’t know enough about them. You don’t know what their core values are like, or what sort of people they truly are. They are not your beloved USAF. Don’t project your need to belong onto something that might not be the answer. Wait. Observe. Learn all you can. Besides, you’ve got Preston counting on you to help him rebuild. You promised to help the Minutemen.  _

“I...would like to think about it, if that’s alright,” she said lamely.

“Of course,” Danse said amiably. “It is a big decision to make. I will be wrapping things up here and returning to Cambridge. If you change your mind or would like to discuss it further, you can find me there.”

“Thank you, Paladin,” Edun said. She extended her hand once more, and this time Danse gripped her hand in his gloved one. “It’s been a pleasure, sir.” 

“Safe travels, Edun of the Minutemen.” She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a fleeting smile before he turned away.

As they walked back down the road, continuing on to Diamond City, Preston let out a long breath.

“Why do I get the feeling we just ensured they’ll be staying in the commonwealth indefinitely?”

“I guess time will tell,” Edun shrugged. “Come on. We’ve only got a couple hours of daylight left, and then we’ve got to figure out where we’re going to sleep for the night.” 


	9. The Bloated, Paranoid, Pandering Green Jewel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dear reader, your author is dumb and finally figured out how to post pictures.
> 
> <3

They were a bit behind schedule. Their plan to spend the night at Oberland Station had turned into a bit of a detour. One of the settlers had begged them for help as soon as she saw their Minutemen coats. Raiders had kidnapped her sister, she said, and they were demanding ransom money. She didn’t have the kind of money they were demanding, and she was distraught. So, Diamond City was delayed while Edun and Preston chased down the raiders and rescued the terrified sister. When they returned her to Oberland, the settler tried to pay them what little caps she had as a thank you, and Edun had to politely but firmly decline. They went to bed in the wee hours of the morning, exhausted, and were asleep as soon as their heads touched the bedrolls.

The delay meant they didn’t approach the outskirts of Diamond City until half past one. As they drew closer, Edun got to meet her first super mutant. Well, a whole bunch of them, actually. The area was infested with the enormous green giants, and there was nothing jolly about them. Preston had told her a lot about what to expect from the wasteland, and so far she’d run into many of the dangers. Various mutated bugs, ghouls, that god-awful Deathclaw, and so forth...but the mutants were something else in person. They were intelligent enough to wield weapons, and so full of hatred for humans it made for an imposing threat. The laser rifle Paladin Danse had given her proved to be an effective new tool, much better than the laser musket she’d picked up off the ground in Concord all those days ago when rescuing Preston and his people. She was grateful for the gift now, as she and Preston repeatedly had to duck into cover and return fire against yet another handful of the furious mutants.

She had a hard time absorbing the scene before her as they slogged through a mutant camp, now littered with green bodies and pieces of blasted away flesh. The mutants had been roasting their dinner over a trash can fire, and the remains tossed into the mesh bin painted a very clear picture of what a mutant diet consisted of. A skull looked up at her as she peered into the fire, flames licking at the bubbling and sizzling contents of the sockets and melting away what flesh remained over the bone.

“Preston… is this how all of them are? Full of rage and...eating people?” The hairs at the back of her neck were standing on end. She felt as though a thousand eyes were boring into her as she stood there looking at what was left of a human being. The large hunk of meat - Edun refused to guess what part it had been - suspended over the fire glistened in the light, and fat popped and sizzled as it dripped down into the burning trash and bones.

“As far as I know,” Preston answered darkly. He was also on edge, wary, the line of his shoulders rigid and his rifle held at the ready. “I always try to avoid this area as much as possible. Diamond City’s guards do a good job of keeping the immediate surroundings clear, but once you venture out into the Fens...it’s a war zone.” 

“You said they like to catch humans? Make them into more mutants?” She shuddered at the thought. What was worse? Becoming a mindless feral ghoul or a mutant?

“Yes. The ones they don't eat, anyway.” Preston grimaced.

“When did a good old fashioned peanut butter sandwich stop being cool?” Edun pulled a face, moving to the edge of the camp. “Let’s keep going. This place is giving me the willies.” 

Every now and then a mutant from high up would start taking pot shots at them, and Edun and Preston would duck under an overhang and wait for the mutant to give up and peek an ugly head out to see where they went.

“Preston, at some point, you and I need to work on target practice together,” she said through gritted teeth as she fired at one of the monstrosities, who was hiding behind a billboard now. “I spent way too much time in a vertibird and nowhere near enough time on the range. I’m many things, but a deadeye at long range I am not.”

“As soon as we get back to Sanctuary I’ll set up a range for you,” Preston promised. He stepped closer to her, and she startled at the feeling of his hand on her elbow. “But for now...You lock your elbows too tightly,” he explained. He gave her elbow a wiggle, prompting her to loosen it. “You want your stance to be solid, but relaxed and fluid at the same time. You will be more responsive and react faster if you are ready to move rather than being locked in place.”

She obeyed, releasing her locked body, and he nodded approvingly.

“See how you have the butt of the stock too high? Only the bottom part of it is properly seated against your body. Bring it down like this,” he pushed the stock down, fitting it to her shoulder. “You want it to rest comfortably against your shoulder, providing stability and proper shock absorption. Curve yourself into it.” His soft leather gloves were warm against her skin as he moved and adjusted her, the contact not at all unpleasant.

“Now, line up your shot. Remember that with a laser rifle, you don’t have bullet drop or wind velocity to worry about.” She raised her rifle, searching for the mutant. Preston leaned close, and his breath tickled her neck. “Good. Take a breath in, hold it, steady yourself...and when you’re ready, fire.”

The crosshairs centered on the mutant’s furrowed, ugly face. She pulled the trigger, and watched through the little reflex sight as the mutant’s head burst apart like an over-microwaved jelly bun. She lowered the rifle, grinning, and turned to look at Preston.

“Got ‘im!”

“See, better. You’re already a good shot, Edun. You just need to learn to relax a little.” Preston was smiling at her approvingly. “Practice those techniques. They will become second nature, and you’ll learn to employ them in much more frenetic situations.” 

“You’d be a better General than I am,” she groaned, but there was no true whine behind it. She was growing into the role.

They heard gunfire as they traipsed on, and crossed through a ruined building warily. Nearing the epicenter of the noise, they found a handful of guards fighting off several super mutants hidden among the rubble of an old office building. The guards were, much to Edun’s amusement, wearing catcher’s gear. They wore the helmets and the padding, and some even had baseball bats wrapped in barbed wire hanging from their belts as weapons in addition to their rifles. Edun and Preston joined in the fray, firing on the mutants while Dogmeat dashed off to chew on someone’s ankle. Edun deployed a couple frag grenades, and her aim was rewarded by concussive blasts followed by a couple mutants falling from windows and ledges, dead. When all the mutants were down, one of the guards lowered his rifle and appraised Edun.

“Like to shoot mutants, eh? My kinda girl. You’ll fit in real good around here.” 

“You get that kind of activity often?” She asked, jerking her chin towards a large green corpse in the street.

“All the damn time,” the guard replied. “Seems like no matter how many we kill, they keep comin’. It’s alright, gives us something to shoot at, ay Joey?” He punctuated this with a high five to another one of the guards who had moved in closer to scrutinize Edun.

“You end up needin’ work, maybe you come back here. Sign up to be a guard. We are always in need of help. New guy got his head bashed in just last week,” Joey said hopefully. His eyes were lingering on her just a little too long. She felt him casually eyeing her scars and she fought the urge to turn her face away.

“Tempting offer, I’ll have to think about it. I don’t think you boys could afford to hire me,” she joked. “You two have fun. We’ve got business to attend to in the city.”

“Welcome to the Great Green Jewel of the commonwealth!” Joey called to her retreating back. “Don’t get in too much trouble, ya hear?” 

“Just another day’s work for them,” she muttered. “Fighting super mutants and getting their brains beat in. Charming life.”

“So far your day’s work hasn’t been much different,” Preston said cheerily. “Look, there! Another sign. We’re almost to the gate.” 

The ancient but solid walls of old Fenway Park - now known as Diamond City - rose up before them, a lurid green that would rival the finest astro turf. The gate itself was closed, and as they approached, they saw a woman standing at it and angrily pounding her fists against the thick metal.

“That’s not good. Have they shut the city down?” Edun frowned. “Not very welcoming of them.”

“First I’m hearing of it,” answered Preston. “But she’s definitely not a super mutant.”

“I  _ live  _ here, Danny! You can't just… lock me out!” The woman turned from the gate to them, cheeks flushed with anger and her eyes bright. She wore a jaunty little red cap and matching trench coat over dark jeans and sneakers.

“You!” She exclaimed, seeing them. She dropped her voice conspiratorially and waved them over. “Come here!” 

Edun, curious now, stepped closer.

“You want into Diamond City, right?” The woman asked in a stage whisper.

“Uh, yeah...I want in.” 

“Great! Play along,” she commanded. Then, much louder, “What’s that? You’re a trader, up from Quincy? You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a month? Did you hear that, Danny? Do you want to be the one to explain to crazy Myrna how you cost her all these supplies?”

“ _ Geez, alright, _ ” the unseen Danny groaned. “Mayor Mcdonough is going to  _ kill  _ me for this...Opening the gate now.” 

With some groaning and creaking, the enormous gate slowly opened. They’d no sooner stepped into the shadow of the stands when someone came bustling down the corridor to meet them. He was a portly man, his shirt and tattered suit doing a piss-poor job of containing his healthy amount of blubber. Edun noticed absently that a good two inches of stomach hung past the line of his untucked shirt and suit jacket, and that his thighs were plush and thick like a well-fed pig’s. He was sweating from the effort of his brisk pace, and he mopped at his face with a monogrammed but decidedly dirty handkerchief. He spoke loudly, chidingly, as he walked - his words almost in tandem with the swishing of his thighs.

“Why, Piper, you rabble-rousing, no-good slanderer! I’ll have that printer of yours scrapped for parts…” He trailed off as he drew to a halt, puffing, and saw Edun and Preston standing there. “What innocent travelers have you dragged into your affairs now?” He demanded, beady eyes sizing them up.

He did not need to introduce himself. Edun had him sized up in seconds. The bluster, the way he carried himself, the big suit for a  _ small man  _ told her everything she needed to know. He didn’t only stink of sweat. He stank of politics. It clung to him, oozed from him. This had to be none other than Mayor McDonough. She waited for him to turn on the charm, and it followed shortly - switched on as easily as a light.

“Now,  _ you  _ look like Diamond City material,” he crooned, reaching out to take her hand. Edun stepped back, stiffly, and the man smoothly canceled the gesture as if that were his plan all along. “Welcome to the Great Green Jewel of the commonwealth! Safe, happy...a fine place to come and spend your caps or settle down. Don't let this…  _ Muckraker _ … convince you otherwise.  _ I _ am Mayor McDonough.”  _ More like Mayor DcDonut. _

“This is a strange idea of a warm welcome,” Edun answered, folding her arms. “You lock a woman out of her city, threaten to destroy her property, and then insult her in front of me before paying  _ me  _ a compliment.”

“Oh, I meant no harm. You must have just met our precocious Piper. She’s written terrible things about me in her little paper.” He threw the woman a glare under stern eyebrows.

“I’d love to see that headline. 'Tyrant mayor stifles free speech!'” Piper jeered, gesturing wide with her hands. “Tell me, new gal, do  _ you  _ support free speech?”

“The press is the only thing that keeps politicians honest,” Edun answered with a wink. 

“Guess not everyone’s won over by that shark smile of yours, McDonough,” Piper laughed, clapping Edun on the back.

“I’ll deal with you later,” McDonough waved a hand dismissively at Piper and turned his attention back to Edun. “Now, was there anything particular you came to our city for?”

“I’m looking for someone. A missing person,” Edun answered.  _ Honesty is the best policy, right? Even with this dickhead.  _

“Just don’t expect him to offer up Diamond City security,” Piper rolled her eyes.  “They’re always  _ too busy _ to be of any use.”

“While our security is certainly occupied with protecting the city,” McDonough said pointedly, “there are many other great citizens here who might be of some help. We have one private citizen, a detective. Nick Valentine. He might be able to help you. This is more his sort of thing, in any case. Now, I have to get going. Best of luck to you. And Piper...I’ve got my eye on you,” the mayor added as an afterthought before turning and marching away again - dabbing at the back of his sweaty neck with his handkerchief.

“If he can take his eyes off the sweet rolls, that is,” Edun commented drily. Piper chortled.

“You’re gonna be fine here. Just fine. Day one and you already stood up to our mayor. I’m looking forward to hearing more about you,” the woman said, before setting off in the direction the mayor had gone.

“Would you like to grab some noodle bowls?” Preston asked after a moment of Edun staring after them with a furrowed brow.

“What? Noodles?” She asked, breaking her reverie.

“Your stomach is growling so loud even Dogmeat is worried,” Preston said pointedly. “Let me introduce you to Takahashi. He makes the best noodles in the commonwealth.”

As though on cue, Edun’s stomach let out another desperate groan, and she laughed, pressing a hand to it. “Shit, Preston, we completely skipped breakfast.”

“Noodles, then, my lady?” He asked, proffering an arm.

“Noodles,” she answered firmly, taking it. 

Diamond City was bustling with life. People ran to and fro on errands, merchants called out to passersby to come take a look at new stock, guards patrolled. There was even a barber. Edun hadn’t seen this many people in one place since waking up in this new world, and she was glad to see humanity was still hanging on tightly to the good things in life. At the center of the market was a restaurant, the sign above christening the place as ‘Power Noodles.’ Edun could smell the salty broth on the air, and her mouth watered.

“Takahashi only says one thing,” Preston told her as they approached the counter. “Just say ‘yes’, or he gets confused.” 

“What am I saying ‘yes’ to?” Edun asked suspiciously, sliding onto a stool.

“Delicious noodles,” Preston said with a grin.

The old Protectron approached them. “Nan ni shimasu ka?” 

“Er...yes.” Edun answered. The robot repeated his question to Preston, who also answered  _ yes.  _ Satisfied, the robot tromped off to fulfill their order. Edun returned to her observation of the people milling about the city. Even here, in a post-nuclear wasteland, there were clear economic classes. A handful of the denizens were dressed neatly, their clothing clean and new and their hair carefully styled. They strolled through the market, perusing wares and even managing to look down their noses at the goods. She heard lots of muttering, too. The people here were deeply suspicious of anyone and everyone potentially being a synth, and the distrust ran deep. Takahashi reappeared after a few minutes, placing two steaming bowls of noodles before them. He even provided chopsticks - real ones, chipped and worn but still usable. 

“What’s with all the paranoia about synths?” Edun asked, taking the first heavenly and messy slurp of noodles.  _ My god. This was almost as good as the pre-war stuff. Talk about hitting the spot.  _

“They’ve been like this ever since the  _ Broken Mask  _ incident,” Preston replied, cradling his bowl in both hands and taking a sip of the broth. “Man, that is good.” 

“Broken Mask incident?” Edun pressed. “Remember, I’m not from around here. Took a 200 year long nap.” 

“Right, of course,” Preston laughed, setting his bowl down. “Sorry. Back in...2229, I think it was, a visitor came to Diamond City. Seemed really nice, charismatic. Told a whole bunch of stories, drew a large crowd all eager for news. I guess at some point he just kinda snapped, pulled his gun, and shot several people. Went completely crazy. Security had a hell of a time putting him down, and once they did they discovered parts that weren’t human. Plastic, metal, circuitry. He was...the first time the Commonwealth had seen a synth like that. One that looked, talked, and acted human. It unnerved them, and ever since… the folks here have been on edge. It’s gotten worse every year, especially with more and more rumors and alleged sightings being reported. They think everyone is a synth about to turn on them.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction,” Edun said, sucking more noodles into her mouth. It was impossible to eat them in a ladylike manner, but Preston did not seem to mind. “What other wonderful qualities do the people of Diamond City possess?”

“Well, they evicted all the ghouls. They don’t allow any ghouls in their city. There was a big feud over it a while back between the mayor and his brother. Lots of fear mongering. The ghouls had a choice...flee or be arrested. So they fled.”

“Why in the hell would the residents care if someone was a ghoul or not?” Edun was starting to develop an intense dislike for this place.

“They think ghouls are dangerous. They believe at any moment, their minds could go and they’ll turn feral.”

“Can that happen?” Edun asked cautiously.

“It can, but it isn’t a quick snap of the fingers kind of thing. It takes time, and usually there is plenty of warning beforehand. Evicting the ghouls from their home was cruel and unnecessary.” 

“You’ll find no argument from me,” Edun shrugged. “I’ve yet to meet a ghoul that wasn’t out to tear me apart, but this is the first city I’ve been to since we met.”

“I’ll have to take you to Goodneighbor sometime,” Preston said, stirring his noodles. “You’d like it there, I think.”

They finished eating, Edun asking more questions and Preston giving answers the best he could. She had so much to catch up on, so much to learn about. She felt like she was in elementary school again. The more she heard about the Institute, the less she liked it.

She looked over at the barber’s booth, touched her mussed and wild hair, and decided she’d have someone much better at the craft braid it for her.

“I’ll be right back,” she told Preston, placing her bowl on the ground so Dogmeat could lap up the remaining mix of broth and noodles. She spoiled the dog with human food, she knew, but he was so darn cute. She approached the barber’s stall, and could see he was busy working on a client. A sharp-featured, waspish blond woman in a well-tailored suit. Edun leaned against the doorway, waiting patiently to speak with the barber, when the woman turned her gaze to the intruder.

“Well, hello there. Another one of the poor and stupid of Diamond City come begging for table scraps?”

Edun raised an eyebrow. “I don’t beg, you stuck-up old bat.”

The woman snorted, disgusted. “Fine. Go ahead and pretend you’re someone important.”

A smile spread across Edun’s face, and she could see it unnerved the prim woman. This dried up old raisin clearly thought she was some real hot shit, and there was no surer way to ruin her day than enjoy this moment. 

“ _ Bitch _ ,” she said simply, her smile dazzling. 

“Wh-What did you say to me?” The woman gasped.

Carefully forming the words so no syllable was missed, Edun answered. “I called you a bitch.”

The woman’s pupils dilated, and Edun left the doorway and sauntered back down the steps. Behind her, the red-faced woman blustered something about calling security. Of course she would. She looked to be the type to call for help after being called a mean name. There was a radio playing nearby, and the voice of the nervous DJ, Travis, came on. 

_ “Coming to you from, uhh, the jeweled green...I mean the green, the uhh Great Green Jewel of the commonwealth. It’s...Diamond City Radio.” _

_More like the bloated, paranoid, pandering green jewel,_ Edun thought to herself with irritation. She was unimpressed. Deeply unimpressed. She’d briefly considered punching that smug woman in the barber chair, but decided it wasn’t worth it. James had been worth punching. That woman...she acted like a queen, but the only thing she was queen of was a pile of irradiated dirt. 

Preston was waiting, observing the interaction with his arms folded.

“Making friends again, I see.”

“She had it coming,” Edun stuck her tongue out at him. “Let’s track down this Detective Nick Valentine, shall we?” 

They followed the signs pointing to the Detective’s office throughout the city, and knew they were close when a pink neon heart pointed them down an alley and to a metal door. Edun hesitated, hand on the door. If anyone could help her find Church’s kid, it was this guy. Hell, maybe he already knew something. She felt nervous as she turned the handle and stepped into the gloom of the office. It was dark inside, only a couple lamps illuminating the small space. A woman stood in the corner, near some filing cabinets. She was talking to herself in a low and mournful voice.

_ “Oh, Nick, what did you get yourself into?”  _

Edun cleared her throat, not wanting to startle the woman. She turned at the sound, and Edun saw her face was wet with tears. Seeing Edun and Preston standing there, she hastily wiped away her tears. She was young and pretty, her hair carefully coiffed into a pre-war style. She wore a tattered skirt, leggings, a tee shirt and a vest. She couldn’t be more than 25, but her eyes at the moment looked much older.

“I’m sorry, but the office is closed. We can’t help anyone right now.”

“We’re looking for Nick Valentine,” Edun said. “Did...something happen to him?”

She could see the young woman weighing whether or not she could trust them, but her desperation overrode her judgement and she caved.

“He went out on a case...A missing girl...Couple weeks ago now.” Worry lines marred her face, creasing between her brows and at the corners of her mouth. “I’m so afraid something terrible happened to him.” 

“Tell us where to go, and we will investigate.” By helping find the Detective, he may in turn be willing to help her. It couldn’t hurt to engender some good will here.

“You’re serious, aren’t you.” Relief flooded the woman’s face. “I’m Ellie. I’m the Detective’s secretary. Let me grab the file on his last case for you.” 

Edun waited patiently while Ellie dug for the file she needed. What was one more pit stop along the way? Step 7: Detect the Detective.


	10. Distractions Only Go So Far

They were in an old vault, unfinished and empty. It was the last thing Edun had expected to find at the end of the subway tunnels. So this was what all those thugs had been guarding...a vault. It was the perfect hideout for a group of criminals to run their operations from. Nobody knew this place was down here. As far as anyone on the surface knew, there was nothing down here but tunnels full of feral ghouls. A belief that left things nice and peaceful for whoever inhabited the vault now. A thick film of dust covered everything, though some surfaces were worn clean from use. For the most part, the new residents had left the place untouched. Not scavvers, then. Something else. They all dressed like mob men from a stereotypical old movie. Talked like it, too. Well, just like those goons in the old movies, these ones also talked mad shit and died easily.

The farther into the vault they went, the quieter Edun found herself. She was withdrawing, struggling with the wash of emotion being in this place brought. Dogmeat could sense her darkening mood, and would periodically look up at her and whine softly in concern. She wondered what Vault Tec had planned for the future hapless residents of this place. What sick experiment had been in mind for them? Judging from the residential accommodations, they weren’t going to freeze them. Maybe they had planned on letting them live out normal lives here. Maybe not all vaults had been designed around human experiments. She smiled to herself grimly as she picked over the place. She hadn’t been so lucky. Instead of living out her life in a vault and dying at a ripe old age, she’d been turned into a guinea pig and left to rot in that vault. Only a malfunction of equipment had saved her. 

This vault was reminding her of everything she’d lost. All the things she’d forced into the back of her mind out of necessity. You were as good as dead in a world like this, if you couldn’t keep yourself together. The wasteland was no place to weep over the dead or mourn things that had been dust for 200 years. But here, in the quiet halls of the empty vault, all the grief Edun had postponed was returning. Dad. Mom. Katy, Ben, Alice - her sisters and her brother. James. Her entire family was gone. She even missed James, somewhat. She’d loved him deeply until that final night. It was hard to switch off all the good times, still tucked away in her memories. She was the last of her line, a fossil of a time centuries past. There was nobody alive to miss her, but she was alive to miss  _ them.  _

Preston made a soft noise in his throat behind her, and she realized she was clutching a child’s toy, plucked from a dresser. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the small rocketship tightly, veins standing out under the duress. Well, there was  _ one  _ person alive from her past. Shaun. Even if he was only an infant, that was something to grab onto. Something to strive towards. If he was alive, if the Institute did indeed have him...she would get him back. Where she went from there, she didn’t know. But it was a lifeline and a purpose she desperately needed. Something to hang on to amidst the raging ocean of grief and guilt churning about in her gut. She realized, as though from very far away, that she was crying. Tears were streaming down her face, and Dogmeat was nosing her free hand gently.  _ Pet the dog. Everything is going to be okay. Just pet the dog.  _ So she did, burying her fingers in his thick ruff and furrowing through it. It helped, centered her.

She kept her back to Preston. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She doubted he’d missed the change in her, however silently her tears fell, but she was ashamed of her weakness. First she crumbled at the sight of the Yao Guai, then she confessed to being a bad shot when faced with mutants, and now she was standing in an empty vault and crying in front of a dresser. What must he think of her?

She felt his presence behind her, the warmth he always seemed to radiate seeping through the cold that gripped her.

“Edun.” His tone was gentle, full of empathy. She allowed herself to fall, leaning back into the ringing bell of her name on his lips, and he wrapped his arms around her. It was like falling back into a crowd of uplifted hands. She kept one hand in Dogmeat’s thick fur, and the other reached up to clutch at his arms crossed around her. He didn’t say anything more, just held her as she wept. Her head fit perfectly into the curve of his neck, his chin resting on her hair. Her silent tears devolved into sobs, shaking her shoulders. Her teeth chattered and her jaw spasmed, too much grief lodged in her for it all to escape at once. She didn’t know how long they stood like that. Maybe minutes. Maybe an hour. He didn’t so much as twitch, as solid and immovable as a stone statue, while she released the torrent that had been stuck under a rib like a rock since she’d crawled out of her cryo pod. There should have been something about this...about a man she hardly knew hugging her...that felt wrong. But being hugged by the big man felt anything but that. It felt natural. Easy. More than anything, it felt genuinely comforting and assuaged some of the pain.

When she had finally regained some composure, and her sobs had quieted to sniffles, Preston at last released her. She swayed a little on her feet, mopping at her eyes and feeling herself flush with embarrassment as she turned and he got a good look at her. She knew her eyes were puffy, her nose red. Her scars would be standing out, brighter than usual at the flush of blood in her face. 

“Do you want to sit down for a moment?” Preston asked courteously, gesturing towards a dusty but otherwise untouched armchair. She nodded gratefully, crossing to it and sitting down. Dust puffed up around her, but she was surprised to find the chair was still soft and comfortable. He sat in an identical chair across from hers.

“Sorry,” she apologized needlessly. It was a knee-jerk politeness. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I’ve been expecting this for a while,” Preston answered softly. “You can only postpone the grieving process for so long. Distractions only go so far.” 

“You knew this was coming?  _ I  _ didn’t even know this was coming,” she let out a disbelieving little laugh.

He gave her a sad smile. “I’ve lived through loss of my own.” 

Of course. She was both stupid  _ and  _ insensitive. He’d lost everything shortly before they met. She winced.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been wrapped up in myself. You’re still mourning the people you lost in Quincy, and here I am crying over people who died 200 years ago.”

“It wasn’t 200 years ago for you. For you, it’s only been a couple of weeks.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. But you’d think the knowledge of how long ago everything happened would dampen the pain a little.” 

“The saying ‘time heals all wounds’ is one of the worst and more inaccurate idioms there is,” Preston said. “Whatever jackass first said that has clearly never lost anyone.” 

Despite herself, Edun laughed with some warmth returned to it. “Yeah. What a jackass.”

Preston leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his hands together - long fingers interlaced. 

“I lost my parents, too. Years back, before I joined the Minutemen.”

“Preston,” Edun breathed, not knowing what to say. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I was twelve years old. Just a kid, really. But if you’d asked me, I’d have told you I was a grown man who could handle himself.” He smiled at the memory of his cocky younger self. “At that age, I was pretty handy with a gun. My father would take me hunting with him, and I could down any creatures that crossed our paths. Or so I thought. We were returning from one of our little trips, a radstag strung up between us on a pole, when we saw smoke rising from our campsite. Far too much smoke.”

Pain gleamed in his eyes. The kind of pain that was ever-present, just beneath the surface. The sort of pain that shaped you, like water running over stones.

“We dropped our kill and ran, thoughtlessly, straight into an ambush. Raiders had killed my mother and sacked the camp. They took everything. She was lying across our bedrolls, a gunshot to her chest, while the tent around her burned. We tried to put out the flames, but...we were too late. The flames were too high, too hot.” Tears shone in his eyes, clinging to his thick dark lashes but not yet falling. “The raiders hadn’t left. They were waiting for us, and while my father was trying to extinguish the flames...they shot him.” 

“But they didn’t shoot you,” Edun said softly, her heart aching for him.

“No. They didn’t.” Preston shook his head, struggling to keep his composure. “I tried to fight them, but I was just a kid. They tossed me back and forth amongst themselves like I was a rag doll. I was no threat to them, and they knew it. They said...they might be raiders, but they didn’t kill children. They told me maybe someday, when I was all grown up, I could come find them and seek out my vengeance. They _laughed_ at me. And then...they left me. They melted back into the forest with everything we owned, and left me to watch my parents burn.”

He shrugged off his long duster and slowly pulled off first one long glove and then the other. Even as he rolled up his sleeves, Edun saw what he wanted to show her. His fingers, hands, and forearms were scarred from burns. The scars were old, long-healed, but were stark and pale against his deep amber skin. Her eyes met his, and a tear of her own fell in tandem with one of his. He reached out a long arm, cupped the side of her face with the scars.

“We both bear the marks of painful memories,” his voice was low and soft. “But neither of us let those painful memories change who we are, at the core. You are the best sort of human, Edun. It’s an honor to know you and an honor to fight at your side. I don’t tell many people this story, but...I felt compelled to share it with you. I want you to know you’re not alone in any of this. I will be here every step of the way.” 

She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He let his hand fall from her cheek, the warmth of his fingers lingering long moments after the contact broke.

“Well,” Edun said after a few minutes of silence. “Look at the two of us, sitting here in a dark vault crying like old women.” Scratch the original Step 7. Step 7 would now be Make It Out of This Vault Without Crying In Front of Preston Yet Again.

Preston chuckled and stirred, rising to his feet and offering her a helping hand up. He’d put his gloves back on while they sat. “I guess we’d better keep looking for the good Detective before he grows mold waiting for us.” 

Further into the vault they went, bumping into the occasional thug, but otherwise the place was unpopulated. They did run into a spot of trouble in a large, undeveloped area. The enormous chamber was still largely dirt and rock, with metal walkways spanning the distance between their section of vault and another finished section farther out. The unfinished area was full of the old-timey henchmen, and the second one of them spotted Edun and Preston an outcry went up. They spent the next half hour in a firefight with the group, and if it weren’t for a few well-placed grenades it might have been a much worse fight. When the area was clear, they pushed on to the separated section of the vault. Edun had a feeling they were close, now. You didn’t set up that much security unless you wanted to guard something close by.

Her intuition was right. After a couple more doors and a few stairs, they came out into an atrium. On the other side of it, another goon was taunting someone locked away in a room with a large viewing window.

“You think you’re such hot shit, Valentine. When Skinny’s done with you, there won’t be so much as a gasket left.”

Edun held a finger up to her lips, and Preston nodded in understanding. Edun crouched and crept closer, careful not to make a sound. 

“You think  _ I’m _ worried about him? You’re the one who should be worried. I hear he’s been watching you. He wrote your name in that black book of his. ‘Lousy, cheating card shark’, I think were his exact words.” Another voice, dry and disdainful, coming from the locked room.

“He did  _ not _ . You’re just trying to save your own skin, sayin’ all kinds of shit.” The thug was nervous now, though. Edun could hear it in his tone. Whoever this Skinny was, he clearly commanded fear in his men.

Edun slowly rose from behind a crate and took aim - remembering the techniques Preston had gone over with her. When her crosshairs hovered steadily on the man’s head, she pulled the trigger. He dropped immediately, his trilby hat bouncing away and a smoking hole in his skull. Red debris painted the window behind him, giving whoever was locked up in there a show. Edun stepped out from cover and approached the locked room. She didn’t know if it was the Detective in there, but she had a feeling it was. She peered into the large round window, and could see the silhouette of someone inside the dimly lit room.

“Hey, you. I don’t know who you are, but we’ve got maybe three minutes before they realize muscle-for-brains ain’t coming back. Get this door open.” It was the same dry voice from earlier.

Edun looked around and saw a terminal on the wall. She crossed over to it, and after some creative fiddling around, hacked in and activated the door controls. She stepped back and the door hissed open. Edun walked towards the shadowed figure, and automatically tensed as he strode into the light. The first thing she noticed was the eyes - two glowing yellow circles against matte gray orbs. Then she noticed the rest of him - gray skin, jagged at the edge, a strip of it missing to show the moving gears beneath. A mechanical hand, flicking a lighter and bringing the flame to the end of a cigarette dangling from the cool gray lips. He was a synth, and clearly a different sort from the ones they’d encountered in ArcJet.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario. Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?”

Edun managed to shake off her shock quickly. If this synth, this - Detective - had meant her harm, he wouldn’t be making conversation while lighting a cigarette. She watched him inhale the smoke, wondering where on earth it went and if it had any effect on him whatsoever. She was fascinated.

“Detective Nick Valentine, I presume?” She asked, forcing herself to outstretch her hand. The Detective took it warily, accepting the handshake. 

“The one and only,” he answered in that dry and gravelly voice.

“I’ve been looking for you. I could use your help, and I hear you’re the guy to see about such things.”

“Help from me?” The Detective asked, cocking his head inquisitively. “Someone owe you money? Need proof of an affair? What?” 

“I’m looking for a missing person. A kid. I don’t exactly know where he could be, or how long he’s been gone.” 

The Detective regarded her for a moment, then nodded. “Nice and simple isn’t usually how these things go. I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn’t kidnapped. She’s Skinny Malone’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak. Anyway, you’ve got troubles, and I’m glad to help. But now ain’t the time. Let’s blow this joint. Then we’ll talk.”

He strode past her and through the doorway, and with a shrug at Preston, Edun followed.

“Malone’s crew used to be small time, got muscled out of the old neighborhood by bigger players...until they found this place. An empty vault makes the perfect hideout.” The Detective chatted as they wound their way down the stairs. “Skinny and his boys will be waiting for us somewhere. The name’s...ironic, but don’t let that fool you. He’s dangerous.” Unbidden, an image of Mayor McDonut’s hanging gut popped into Edun’s head and she found herself smirking.

The detective led them down to the bottom of the atrium and towards an exit on the far wall. The door shuttered open, and four henchmen strolled in to check on their missing friend. Edun and the others ducked out of sight just in time, hiding behind metal crates. 

“Dino! Where you at?” One of them called. “Quit messin’ around up there, boss wants to see you.”

They noticed the grenade rolling to a stop at their feet far too late, and their yells of alarm were shortly drowned out by the concussive blast of the frag grenade.

“Loud and bloody, huh?” The Detective said in a disapproving tone as they strolled past what was left of the four men. “Not the approach I’d take, but...effective enough.”

They ran into more henchmen on this side of the vault, but caught most of them by surprise and made short work. Before long, they were approaching a final door.

“I think I hear big, fat footsteps on the other side,” Nick cautioned as he picked the lock. “Be ready for anything.” The lock clicked, disengaged, and slid open.

As promised, Skinny Malone stood waiting. He was surrounded by a group of his men and flanked by a woman with sharp features. Too sharp. The hard lines of her chin and nose took away from an otherwise attractive face, making her look older than she was. In reality, she was likely nineteen or twenty. She was wearing a dress that shimmered with sequins, and Skinny wore a tux. They clearly had a taste for the finer things. Skinny had more than a taste, judging from the bulging seams of his tux. There wasn’t much in the way of tailors to be found in the wasteland apparently.

“Nicky, what’re you doin? You come into my house. Shoot up my guys. You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?” Skinny had stepped forward, the sharp-faced woman at his elbow.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to tell her to write home more often.” Nick’s dry voice cracked like a whip, laced with wit.

The woman at Skinny’s side piped up. Her voice was high, nasal, whiny. Edun immediately hated it. “Awww, poor little Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I’ll just run back to daddy, shall I?” She held a baseball bat tightly in her skinny fingers, tapping it against one palm in a way she no doubt thought was menacing. Dogmeat took up a low growl beside Edun, hackles raised. He didn’t like the woman either.

“Should’ve left it alone, Nicky. This ain’t the old neighborhood. In this vault, I’m king of the castle, you hear me?” Skinny puffed out his already protruding chest. “I ain’t lettin’ some private dick shut us down now that I finally got a good thing goin’.”

“I told you we should’ve just killed him, but then you had to get all  _ sentimental! _ All that stupid crap about the ‘old times’,” Darla snarled. She was distinctly unpretty when she contorted her face like that.

“Darla, I’m handling this! Skinny Malone’s always got things under control!” The fat man protested, scrambling for the balls that were no doubt kept in Darla’s glittering clutch.

Edun had reached her fill of the banter, especially with Skinny now referring to himself in third person, and stepped forward. Darla’s hard eyes flicked over to her, took in Edun’s stance and stony expression.

“You know what,  _ Darla,”  _ Edun said casually, stroking Dogmeat’s head briefly before returning her hand to the rifle. “Dogmeat here doesn’t like you. And when Dogmeat doesn’t like someone, _ I _ don’t tend to like them either.”

“Let me kill her, Skinny,” Darla whined. “She can’t talk to me like that!”

“I’d like to see you try,” Edun said with a wolfish grin. She was angry. Furious. There was something in her, twisting about darkly, that Edun was dimly aware of and did not like. Maybe it was a natural subconscious response to the world she found herself in. She didn’t know. All she knew was in that moment, she found herself welcoming a little chaos.

Skinny Malone started to say something, but it was lost in the shrill and furious shriek that Darla emitted before launching herself at Edun. Edun sidestepped easily, and Darla hurtled forward, her momentum costing her solid footing. Edun gave her a solid boot to the gut as she landed, and the woman let out a strangled wheeze, curling around her middle in pain. She turned a hate-filled gaze towards Edun, but her mouth gasped like a beached fish’s when she stared up into the barrel of Edun’s laser rifle.

“Don’t hurt her!” Skinny moaned uselessly, not daring to lift his own rifle.

“Let’s not do anything hasty or rash,” Nick cautioned warningly.

“You’re not cut out for this life,” Edun snarled down at Darla. “You talk big when you’ve got a whole bunch of goons to back you up. I’m willing to bet the  _ alleged _ asskicking Nick received at your hands was done while he had a man on each arm and leg, restraining him so he couldn’t fight back. You’re a fucking coward, Darla. It’s why you ran away from home, and why you like to hide in Skinny’s enormous shadow. You’re a stupid kid playing a stupid game that will get you killed.  _ Go home _ . You won’t get this chance again.”

Her face crumpled in, and tears welled up in her eyes. “I...I...you’re right. What am I  _ doing _ ? I’ve gotten all mixed up.” She pushed herself up to her knees and then stood, and Edun let her.

“Darla?” Skinny asked as she pushed past him. Her knees were bleeding from her fall, and she clutched her stomach as she shouldered his men aside. “Where...Where are you goin’?”

“Home, Skinny,” the young woman said over her shoulder. “Where I should have been all this time.”

Skinny watched her go, stunned, before turning on Edun. “First you cost me my men, and now my girl?  _ I’ll fuckin’ kill you _ ,” and with that he lifted the muzzle of his tommy gun. Edun had expected as much, and was prepared - her laser rifle pulsed as she shot Skinny three times in the chest.

His men were slow to respond, and seeing the situation unfolding, Nick and Preston dispatched them while Edun was occupied with Skinny. When it was over, and Edun lowered her rifle at last, Nick surveyed the carnage and let out a disappointed sigh.

“He wasn’t always this way,” the Detective said. “He’s got a temper, sure, but...that girl got him all spun up. Fed into that side of him. It’s a damn shame things couldn’t have gone differently.”

“I don’t know what kind of history the two of you had, but...he’s a thug. A criminal. Who knows how many lives he’s affected by doing what he does.” Edun didn’t mean to come across as unsympathetic, but facts were facts. It was clear there was something to the man this Detective liked, but old affections or not... Skinny and his men were not the sort a recovering world would miss. The only reason she’d let Darla walk was because she sensed the woman hadn’t been too far gone to turn back.

“You’re not wrong,” Nick answered tiredly, passing a hand over his forehead in a distinctly human gesture. “Life isn’t always so cut and dry, unfortunately. But enough of this. Let’s get out of here. I’ve spent two weeks down here, and I’d rather not stay another second longer.”

Edun and Preston followed him out of the vault and back through the tunnels, stepping over the trail of bodies they’d left. She hoped Darla learned something from this and turned her life around. She wouldn’t be so forgiving if they met again someday and that idiot girl had taken up the life again. Outside the vault, Nick took a deep, long breath and stared up at the stars beginning to wink into sight.

“Look at that commonwealth sky. Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting.” He turned to Edun. “Thanks for getting me out. How did you know where to find me, anyway? Not many people knew where I went.” 

“When we went to your office looking for you, your assistant Ellie told us about how you’d gone missing. She was pretty upset. I figured if I helped find you, then you in turn could help me. She told us where to start looking, and the rest unfolded as we went.”

Nick smiled and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. “Ellie. I might have known. She’s always worrying about this old synth.”

“You’re not like other synths I’ve seen,” Edun said cautiously. “What are you?”

“Besides the obvious part about being a synthetic man?” Nick asked drily. “Some sort of prototype. Don’t really remember much about it. Just waking up on a pile of garbage with a whole mess of someone else’s memories in my head. I opened up that little agency in Diamond City, and it turns out...people have plenty of problems to solve. You yourself have one. A missing person, right? No trace of where they’ve gone?” 

Edun nodded and watched as he lit another cigarette. “That’s right.”

“I want you to come to my office in Diamond City. You can give me all the details there. Besides, I think you’ve earned a chance to sit down and clear your head.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Edun affirmed. “Give you some time to get settled back in. We’ve got an errand or two to run, and then we’ll head back to your office.”

Nick nodded, sucked in a long drag, and blew it out in the direction of the stars. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you soon. Dogmeat, good to see you again.” He nodded at the dog before turning and heading off down the street. Edun looked down at Dogmeat, incredulous.

“Do you know  _ everyone _ in the commonwealth? What else are you hiding, hmm?” He only cracked a doggy grin at her before scratching at one of his ears with a hind leg. Edun shook her head. The animal was full of surprises.

“Well, since we’re somewhat close,” Preston interrupted, “Why don’t we stop by Goodneighbor? You haven’t been there yet, and we can grab some supplies from Daisy while we’re in the area.”

“Lead the way,” Edun said. “As long as there is somewhere I can get a hot bath.” 

“That would be the Hotel Rexford,” Preston said agreeably as he headed in the opposite direction of Nick. “Pretty sure for an extra fifty caps, they’ll scrub your back for you, too.”

“I’ll pass on that,” Edun groaned, but she was smiling in the dark.  _ A hot bath _ . It had been far too long. Step 8: Take A Bath So Hot It Hurts.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm drowning in world building. Send help and cookies.


	11. You Feel Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I proofread this a thousand times, I swear, but I'm tired. Forgive me for any sins.

There was a large, dirty, sweaty, suspicious looking fellow standing in the way of Step 8, and Edun was in no mood. The oaf waited expectantly for his extortion attempt and menacing presence to pay off, fists on his hips and a leering grin on his face. His skin was deeply pock-marked, though from the ravages of adolescent acne or a canister of something corrosive exploding in his face at some point, Edun couldn’t say. He was uglier than sin, and she didn’t find him particularly intimidating.

“Come on, sweetheart, I ain't’ got all day. Empty those pockets.”

She answered by raising her rifle, to which he responded by drawing his own pistol. Behind her, she knew Preston was ready to shoot as well.

“Listen, sugar,” she said, voice as smooth as silk. “I might look like an easy mark, but I’m not. And if you try to shoot me, and somehow hit me before I hit you, my friend here is going to fill you so full of holes your mother will be able to use what’s left of you to strain spaghetti.” 

“Woah, woah, time out,” a third voice called, and a ghoul - the friendly kind, she noted - stepped out from the shadows of Guns, Guns, Guns. “Someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a guest. You lay off that extortion crap, Finn.”

Finn turned towards the voice, lip curled, as the ghoul  _ sauntered  _ towards them. He had a distinct swagger about him, the sort of walk that came with absolute confidence in oneself.

“What do you care, Hancock? She ain’t one of us,” Finn snarled as the ghoul stopped a few feet away.

“No love for your mayor, Finn?” Hancock crooned. “I said back off.”

Finn snorted derisively. “You’re soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there’ll be a new mayor.”

Hancock raised an eyebrow and drew even closer. “Come on, man,” he said in an easygoing and cajoling voice. “This is me we’re talking about. Let me tell you something.” 

Finn let the ghoul lean close to him, losing some of his wariness, and that was when Hancock struck. Lightning fast, a knife flashed in his hand as he drove it into Finn’s gut viciously once, twice. Finn, face registering absolute shock and surprise, toppled over. Edun watched him fall, her face carefully impassive. 

“Why’d you have to go and say that, Finn?” The ghoul said, nudging the dead man with the toe of one boot. “Breaking my heart over here.”

“Edun, let me introduce you to John Hancock, mayor of Goodneighbor,” Preston said, stepping forward.

“Preston!” Hancock exclaimed, giving Preston a handshake that turned into a quick hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Heard about that bad business down in Quincy. You holding up okay?”

“Yeah, I’m holding up. Not without a little help from my friend, here.”

Edun felt herself relax. It was clear Preston liked and trusted Hancock, and if he did she would follow his example. Hancock turned his eyes to her, grinning. The effect was interesting, given the state of his face.

“I didn’t know Preston had any friends as beautiful as you,” Hancock said with a low whistle. “Where on earth has he been hiding you, angel?”

Edun chose to ignore the overt charm. “Quite the welcoming party you guys have here,” she gestured to Finn’s body on the cobblestones.

Hancock shook his head. “Don’t mind him. Goodneighbor’s of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone’s welcome.”

Edun raised one eyebrow. “Yeah, I... _ feel _ you.” 

“Now, you two make yourself comfortable. Spend some caps, grab a bite...And if you need  _ anything _ at all, you just let me know.” He punctuated this with a wink at Edun, and laughed when she rolled her eyes.

“Good to see you, big P,” Hancock said as he strolled back the way he came, giving Preston a hearty slap on the back.

After he had gone, Edun gave Preston a poke in the ribs. “Is he like this with everyone, or should I expect a dozen roses to be delivered soon?” 

“He is absolutely incorrigible,” Preston said, eyes twinkling. “He’ll never give up.”

“Wonderful,” Edun groaned. “Now lead me to this hotel you mentioned. I was promised a hot bath, and damned if I’m not going to get one as soon as possible.”

It was nearly midnight, and she was absolutely beat. She wanted a hot bath and bed, to hell with dinner. She was too tired to be hungry, despite their bowls of noodles having been hours ago. She willed her stomach be silent, lest Preston hear it growling again and make her prioritize food first.

The Hotel Rexford stood tall, the once-grand building having seen much better days. Still, it had been kept in decent repair. The sign over the doors even lit up still. Goodneighbor had power and decent security, despite super mutants patrolling the surrounding area. She pushed one of the great wooden doors open and took in the interior. The furniture was shabby, the floor tattered, and a sharp older woman ran the counter. She had one of those faces that permanently looked as though she’d smelled something terrible. When Edun approached the front desk, the woman interrupted her argument with an older man - something about chems - to take in the new visitor.

“You want a room, it’s ten caps. I don’t have time to deal with any other bullshit right now.”  _ Was everyone here so friendly?  _

“Two rooms,” Edun replied, counting out twenty caps. The woman spotted Dogmeat and frowned.

“That mutt will cost you extra,” she complained. “Last time someone brought a dog in here, the damn thing shit everywhere.”

“Jesus Christ, lady. Here’s thirty caps,” Edun pushed the pile across the counter and the woman greedily snatched them up.

“Rooms are on the top floor, farthest down the hall. Check out’s by 11AM. You sleep in, we drag you out by your feet.”

“Lovely. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“She’s all bark and no bite,” Preston assured her as they made their way up the stairs to their rooms.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Edun replied. “I just watched the mayor stab a guy for trying to squeeze caps out of us.”

Preston laughed. “I’ll be in the room next door if anyone tries to give you any trouble. Just yell for me.”

They parted ways at their doors, the traitorous Dogmeat following Preston into his.

“Why you ungrateful little goblin,” Edun groused, but the dog only gave her a reproachful side-eye before a chuckling Preston closed the door behind them. While her words said otherwise, Edun was looking forward to some complete and absolute quiet. She hadn’t had a moment alone in her own head for some time. That was mostly a deliberate design. She was, for the most part, afraid to be alone. But somehow she needed it, just then. The damned dog seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Besides, there was a part of her that felt…ashamed, somehow, about the things she and Preston had shared with each other back in vault 114. She knew this was something she put on herself. Preston had been nothing but kind, accepting, and understanding. There was a lot of similar and shared pain between them. All that said, she felt as though she was falling quite short of wearing the mantle of General. How could she command respect of anyone, when she felt as though she was always crumbling the moment she focused on her previous life?

She entered her room. It was, as all things in the commonwealth seemed to be, worn out. The bed looked as though it had seen better days, and the chairs were tattered though clean. Still, it was a roof over her head and beat a bedroll tucked away under a tree somewhere. It would more than do. She noted a large porcelain claw-foot tub in the bathroom, and her eyes gleamed at the prize. She turned the spigot, and there was a low rumble as pressure built and then a stream of water poured from the faucet. She held her fingers in it, and a slow smile spread across her face as it grew hot within a few second. She hadn’t had a hot shower since the morning the bombs fell. Since then, it had been quick baths in chilly creeks. She nearly moaned at the thought of slipping into the hot water. Step 8, she was comin’. While the tub filled, she gave herself a cursory once-over in the mirror. The dark circles beneath her eyes were fading, and there was color to her cheeks. Somehow, as she ran her fingers over the scars on her face for the thousandth time, she did not feel they were so ugly. Something had changed when Preston had shown her his own scars. He, too, had been burned while trying to protect someone else. He bore the marks of that day, a painful reminder of losing everything. His loss somehow lessened the pain of her own, made it easier to bear. With that relief came a more forgiving attitude towards her marred self.

She went back to the bedroom and began to disrobe. First, her long duster - identical to the one Preston wore. Faded and blue, carefully patched again and again. He’d stolen them from the Revolutionary museum. He was obsessed with the Minutemen of old, a fact that Edun found rather charming. She laid the coat across the bed gently, almost reverently. The rest of her clothes followed, though she left those in a pool at her feet before returning to the bathroom. The old tub was nearly full, and Edun turned the spigot until the stream of water stopped. Steam rose from the inviting water, and she dipped a foot in. She hissed at the heat, a shock to her skin, but stepped in anyway. She lowered herself until she was nearly fully immersed, the water coming up to just below her chin. She’d always been one for scorching showers or baths - a fact that had greatly distressed James whenever he wanted to join her. That train of thought led to the realization that it had been almost a year since anyone had  _ touched _ her. The thought of it now made her face hot in a way the water couldn’t. How did you date in the wasteland? Wiggle your eyebrows at passing traders until one took notice?

She forced herself to move on mentally. That was something she had neither the time nor the energy to worry about. She thought back over the day’s events instead. Her short time in the wasteland was already changing her significantly. First, the encounter with Skinny and Darla. She’d handled that girl with swiftness and a viciousness that startled her. Jesus, she’d kicked the woman in the stomach before holding a gun on her. If that weren’t enough, she’d shot Skinny afterwards with absolutely no hesitation. That was a far cry from the day she’d met Preston and puked her guts out on the streets of Concord in horror at what she’d done. She frowned and sank deeper into the water, letting it come up to the line of her lips. She was changing, alright...and she wasn’t sure if it was something she wanted to allow to continue. On the other hand, maybe that was what needed to happen for her to lead the Minutemen the way they deserved to be. Quick, hard, decisive. That was the makings of a General. Not crying and carrying on and worrying about the delicate details of every single person who fell before her rifle. She needed to think like a General. It was not a natural mantle for her to wear, but she would force herself to do her very best.

_ Would I have killed Finn, too?  _ She asked herself, tilting her head back and submerging her greasy, dusty hair.  _ If Hancock hadn’t stepped in...If I’d had to take it farther...would I have? Would he have actually tried to shoot me? Or would I just shoot first? Would Preston have shot him?  _ There was no shampoo, only a questionable bar of soap in a dish bolted to the wall, but it was better than nothing. She massaged suds through her tresses once, twice, until there was no longer a scummy film to them. She rinsed, then scrubbed her body. She’d grown leaner since her time here. Probably all the irregular meals. She was so distracted and preoccupied with all the things she needed to do and the new things to learn that she often forgot to eat. If it weren’t for Preston, she likely would be even leaner. He had a habit of knowing when she’d skipped eating, and scolding her into a proper meal.

She stayed in the tub until the water had cooled to just over lukewarm, and her skin was wrinkled. At last, with a reluctant sigh, she pulled herself up out of the water and wrapped a moth-eaten towel from the rack around herself. Digging through her pack, she found a clean change of clothes - a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt, a size too small but in reasonably good shape. She slipped into the new clothes, grateful for the clean feeling. She towel-dried her wet hair the best she could, before twisting it up into a bun on top of her head. Clean and exhausted, Edun slipped between the faded green set of sheets and let her head fall onto the pillow. She closed her eyes and willed herself to have good dreams. 

Whether it was due to Dogmeat’s absence, or she was merely too wound up from the day’s events, sleep would not come. She grew increasingly irritated, tossing and turning, punching the pillow into various shapes, drawing the covers higher and then kicking them off. After a couple hours of this, she gave up - sitting upright, buckling her holster around her hips, and slipping her boots back on. Her stomach was growling, furious with her most recent transgression, and she decided she would find something to eat. She had a feeling the Hotel Rexburg didn’t offer  _ Room Service.  _ She padded down the hall silently, trying to avoid waking up Preston or that damn nosy dog, and was pleased when no sound of alarm came from their room. She might be a nightmare of gracelessness on the dance floor, but she could tiptoe like the finest of ballerinas.

Outside the hotel, she shivered at the cool night air and wished she’d grabbed her coat after all. The wind cut right through her thin tee shirt as though it weren’t there. A ghoul - one of the city’s watchmen - eyed her from where he leaned against a light pole with distinctive interest. His eyes roamed over her with unabashed hunger, and she bit her tongue, offering a polite smile instead of a cutting remark.  _ You’ll get more flies with honey, Edun. Don’t get anyone else stabbed today.  _

“Excuse me, ah, sir. Is there somewhere I could grab a drink and some food this late?” 

He took a moment to respond, his eyes lazily drifting up to meet hers from where they’d been fixed to her torso. “Third Rail is gonna be your best bet, though Charlie is gonna give you a rash of shit for wanting food. Head down the street, take a right and then another right and you’re there. Follow the music.”

“Right. Well, thank you,” she responded stiffly, turning away from him.

“I get off my shift in half an hour if you want some company,” the ghoul called after her. She shook her head, not bothering to turn back, and heard him laugh. “Damn shame.”

The aforementioned Charlie was none other than Whitechapel Charlie, the rather unpleasant and clearly shady Mr Handy running the bar. By now, Edun had grasped that she was in a bit of a den of thieves here. Goodneighbor was gritty, with an all-too-obvious seedy underbelly. Charlie was indignant when she asked about food, but when she also asked for a beer, his loud judgements calmed down to a dull muttering. After a few minutes of waiting, he slid a dish towards her. It appeared to be some sort of roast and wilty looking carrots.  _ Fucking carrots. This was definitely a hellish wasteland devoid of all good things.  _ She suppressed a groan and dug into the roast with relish. The meat proved to be brahmin, and wasn’t half bad. The carrots were unsalvageable, but she was so bothered by Charlie’s intense scrutiny that she managed to eat them as well. She mourned not bringing Dogmeat with her. She could have sleight-of-handed the damn carrots to him. He loved them.

She was nursing her second beer, somewhat content now that her demanding stomach was full, when two men strode into the bar. She observed them casually, taking in the details. They were large, well built, and looked meaner than spit. If she had to guess, she’d say mercenaries. Both carried at least three guns, and she had no doubt that there was a knife or two hiding under those military fatigues they’d adopted as their wardrobe. The two men walked with a purpose, and after they’d passed through the sitting area, Edun found herself following them. She gave them plenty of distance. She’d seen enough of men like that to know when something was afoot, however, and that new spark in her was somewhat spoiling for a fight. She wasn’t disappointed. The men disappeared down a hall, and as she approached the room at the end she could hear voices.

“...Can’t say I’m surprised to see you in a dump like this, MacCready,” she heard one of the men saying.

“I was wondering how long it would take you two to sniff me out, Winlock,” Another voice, higher and younger. This must be MacCready. The person the two had been looking for. “It’s been almost three months. Don’t tell me you’re losing your touch. Should we...take this  _ outside _ ?”

Whoever MacCready was, he didn’t seem to be particularly bothered by the two large men. His tone was casual, insolent.

“It ain’t like that,” Winlock, again. “We’re just here to deliver a message.”

“In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good.” Shifting, creaking, as MacCready stood. 

“Yeah, I heard.” Winlock’s voice sounded relaxed, but there was a threatening note to it. “But you’re still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. And that...doesn’t work for us.”

“I don’t take orders from you,” MacCready’s voice lost its casual tone. “So why don’t you take your girlfriend here and leave...While you still can.”

“We don’t have to listen to this shit,” a third voice snarled. Edun realized she was resting her hand on her pistol, ready to jump in.

“Listen up, MacCready,” Winlock again. “The only reason you’re still alive is because we don’t want to start a war with your little buddy the mayor and the rest of Goodneighbor. See, we respect other people’s boundaries. We know how to play the  _ game.  _ Something you never learned to do.”

“Glad to have disappointed you,” MacCready retorted. Winlock chuckled, a raspy and low sound.

“Play the tough guy all you want,” Winlock replied. “But if we catch you operating in Gunner territory again… All bets are off. You’re dead.” Ah. Gunners. Preston had told her about them. Vicious mercenaries with few qualms about how they earned their caps. Not to mention it was the Gunners who had committed the massacre at Quincy.

“You finished?” It came out in a bored drawl. Edun had to give it to the kid, he had bravado in unlimited supply.

“Yeah,” Winlock said. “We’re finished. Come on, Barnes.”

Edun straightened and moved away from the door, making a show of drinking her beer and leaning against a wall for support. The two men didn’t so much as glance at her, only walked past with grim expressions on their face. She waited until they were gone to slip into the back room.

“You seem to have made some nice friends,” she commented as she put a face to the voice. MacCready had a smooth, handsome face. He was, as she’d surmised from his voice, quite young. Early twenties, if she had to hazard a guess. He had a furrow to his brows that belied his youth, clearly he was used to scowling. He reminded her just then of a certain Paladin, and she hid a smile. MacCready was wearing a tattered long jacket, a bandolier crossing his chest and another wrapping about one thigh. A long rifle leaned against the rifle beside his chair, custom-modded and well loved. MacCready snorted, appraising her, before plopping back down in his chair heavily.

“Who are you? Someone Winlock and Barnes sent to finish the job?”

Edun folded her arms. “And if I was?”

“I could take you.” He smirked at her, young and cocky and no doubt sure of his words. She didn’t doubt it, but that wasn’t part of the game.

“Could you, without that pretty rifle of yours?” She let herself smile, a smirk to match his. He surveyed the gun at her hip and she saw an appreciative glint in his eye. He approved of the scoped .44 Magnum.

“You’re not with the Gunners, I can tell as much by looking at you. You’re not stupid, and Gunners are stupid. So, what do you want? You looking for a hired gun or somethin’?”

“I wasn’t particularly in the market for one,” she answered, leaning against the wall and folding her arms. “But out of curiosity, what does one like you cost?”

He lifted his chin, sizing her up. She could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out whether or not she was loaded.

“250 caps,” he said at last. “Up front. And there’s no room for bargaining.” 

She pretended to mull it over, pinching her chin between an index finger and thumb. He waited, feigning patience, but she could see how badly he wanted those caps. She was forming an idea in her head. It would be smarter - a more General sort of decision - to hire MacCready to accompany her back to Valentine’s office. He could watch her back if they ran into any danger, and free up Preston to return to Sanctuary and oversee all the repairs and work to be done there. From Sanctuary, Preston could better monitor their growing ranks and keep her appraised of any situations needing their help. Preston might not like the idea of leaving her in the hands of a stranger, but the benefit to hiring a mercenary was they tended to have a vested interest in keeping their employer alive. 

“You’ve got a deal,” she said after allowing him to twist in the wind a little longer. She couldn’t help it. His cockiness made her want to pick on him, just a little. “We leave in the morning. For now, I need to go to bed. We’ll have a long day ahead of us.”

She slid her pack from her shoulder and delved around until she found the large bag of caps within. She counted out 250 of them, enjoying the mingled impatience and lust in his eyes at the sight of them. Once he was paid, she bid him goodnight and made her way back to the Hotel Rexburg. She was so tired she was fighting to keep her eyes open and struggling to put one foot in front of the other. The two beers and the plate of food had dulled her sharp edges, and she was sure if she crawled into bed now she would be out like a light. She kept a wary eye out for the amorous watchman from earlier, but he was long gone. No doubt off to mourn his great loss.

She liked the kid, MacCready. For some reason, despite only being four or five years older than him, there was a quality about him that made her want to look after him. She didn’t know what his story was, but he was plucky. The way he’d stood up to those two Gunners was something like a dog facing down two Deathclaws, and she admired that quality in him. He would be a help to her with that rifle of his, yes...but she hoped by hiring him and getting him out of that shady bar she would be helping him, too. If the Gunners wanted to come after him, they could go through her. She was too tired to mentally catalogue her own ridiculous bravado at that thought. Step 9: Drag MacCready to Diamond City.

She would talk to Preston in the morning about her plan, she told herself as she crawled back under the covers. Suddenly, the stiff old bed felt incredibly soft and welcoming. No sooner had she turned out the light than she was asleep.


	12. A Brief Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you've read a little of Edun's story, I wanted to share this little... blurb, of sorts, about her. Consider it bonus material. I've written 25 chapters and counting now, and I think it's safe to say I am madly in love with Edun. I hope you are too, just a little. :)

Edun is the sort of person who is rarely truly unkind or blunt. She uses humor to diffuse tense situations or to deflect when she is uncomfortable. That said, she is not afraid to stand up for herself or others. She does not let anyone walk all over her, though a military career taught her to dampen the desire to respond to bossiness with a swift kick to delicate parts.

Edun makes friends quickly, wherever she goes... To the degree it's not optional. She will chip away at your armor until you find yourself sharing beers on a rooftop without knowing how you got there. Despite only knowing Sgt Nathan Church a couple months, the two bonded quickly and his death absolutely devastated her. She genuinely mourns him and battled with terrible grief for months after the crash. Her guilt over his death, though misplaced, is the driving force behind her determination to get Shaun back and give him a good life.

Edun has a strict sense of principle. She believes in honesty, hard work, and protecting those who can't protect themselves. She would never ask anyone to do something she wasn't willing and able to do herself. She deeply values her friends and would trade her life for any of theirs in a second if necessary, though that does not mean she wouldn't risk it to help strangers in need. 

Edun greatly underestimates her own value, often wondering why on Earth people admire her or request her assistance, despite her impressive skillset and ability to adapt. She is a reluctant General, vowing to someday push Preston into the role, but otherwise embraces the responsibility. Her quick thinking makes her a more than capable General, and the Minutemen flourish under her guidance.

Despite a flippant attitude about her scarred face, she is deeply self conscious over it. She generally avoids looking in mirrors, and is mildly surprised when anyone finds her attractive.

If Edun had to write a song about a few of her favorite things, they would be, in this order: Dogmeat, Preston, scorching hot bubble baths, snack cakes, and noodle bowls from Power Noodles.

lf Dogmeat compared his list to Edun's, it would be quite similar... Though the order would be Edun, snack cakes, Preston.

Edun's least favorite things are carrots and anyone Dogmeat doesn't like.


	13. Be It Ever So Humble..There’s No Place Like Home

Preston, despite his grumbling, understood her reasoning for sending him back to Sanctuary. He gave her arm a squeeze, promised to be in contact via radio, and headed out bright and early for Sanctuary. Dogmeat stayed, his tail thumping against the pavement as he looked up at her.

“You cuddled him all night and  _ now  _ you want to be friends?” She complained, but nevertheless her fingers somehow ended up scratching him right at his favorite spot. Damn dog always won in the end. She turned and headed back to the Third Rail, where she found MacCready sprawled out face-down, asleep across one of the bar’s couches. If his presence bothered any of the staff, they gave no indication if it. The bar wouldn’t open for another hour, and Charlie was hard at work shining bottles and bitching about miscreants. She nudged MacCready, but he didn’t budge. She tried calling his name, but he didn’t stir. Finally, exasperated, she took hold of his arm and attempted to roll him onto his back. She froze at the contact of something cold against her neck, just below her jawline. MacCready’s eyes, furious and bloodshot from being suddenly awoken, focused on her and the fury slowly left them. He lowered the enormous bowie knife he was holding to her throat, the razor-sharp edge of it whispering against her skin. 

“That was far too close for comfort,” she said softly, feeling a little shaky as she stepped away from his side.

“You can’t just wake a man up like that,” MacCready complained, though she could hear a hint of mortification in his tone.

“I tried waking you up two other ways,” Edun answered irritably. “You sleep like the damn dead. Late night spending your caps?”

“No, I try to spend as little as I can,” MacCready replied. She saw him wince at the unwitting share of information.  _ So he was saving up for something. Interesting.  _

“Next time I need to wake you, I’ll opt for a bucket of cold water,” Edun said thoughtfully, fingers grazing the spot where his knife had been. There was no blood, though she had no doubt if he’d wanted he could have produced it by the gallon.

“You do that, and I will  _ definitely  _ stab you,” MacCready growled without malice.

She tossed a bundle to him, which he caught from midair deftly. 

“What is it?” He asked suspiciously.

“Breakfast. Can’t travel on an empty stomach,” she said lightly. She was, in truth, rather thrilled about her find. A trader had been selling buns filled with either mutfruit or melon preserves, and Edun had bought the whole dozen. She felt a little guilty over her greed, but the wonderful golden buns were absolutely delicious. She’d given two to Preston for the road, one to Dogmeat for being a super good boy, ate three herself, and the rest were in the bundle. She figured she’d let MacCready eat his fill, and whatever was left could be a snack for later. She was proud of herself. She’d eaten before noon. That was an accomplishment in and of itself. Mac looked at her with a measure of unease, as if wondering what game she was playing, but when he opened the wrapping and saw the lovely golden buns within, he grinned and fell upon them with surprising gusto. She wondered how much of his leanness was due to irregular meals, as hers was.

  
  


Dogmeat managed to coax a second bun from MacCready, after a few minutes of intense staring during which his eyes somehow got even larger and deeper, shining with longing. Then, with a final brushing off of crumbs - all which were enthusiastically collected by the dog - they were ready to set off. MacCready, like Edun, packed light. He had everything he needed stuffed into a single pack, which she could tell was rather heavy though he made no complaint. If she had to guess, she’d say it was full of ammunition and maybe one change of pants.

“Where are you two off to?” A familiar voice called as they stepped out of the Third Rail onto the street. Hancock appeared from an alley. He had an unsettling way of just showing up, melting out of the shadows at the right moments.

“Heading back to Diamond City,” Edun answered. The ghoul’s eyes twinkled as he gave her an obvious up-and-down.

“Do me a favor while you’re out and about,” Hancock asked. “I’ve been hearing some unsettling rumors about a place called the Pickman Gallery. Stop by, check it out for me. There will be caps in it for you.” 

Edun considered it. She didn’t see any harm in stopping by this place and scoping it out, and it would be smart to replenish all the caps she’d just spent on MacCready. You never knew when you might need a good pile of them.

“Alright,” she nodded in agreement. “We’ll see what we find there.” 

“Excellent!” The mayor exclaimed. He shifted his eyes to MacCready. “Take care of my new friend, Mac. Be seein’ you soon.” 

Edun felt herself flinch at the name.  _ Mac.  _ Unpleasant memories of her old copilot resurfaced. While the nickname might be easier than the longer  _ MacCready,  _ there was no way she could bring herself to call the young man by that shortened moniker. MacCready seemed to notice her reaction, and creased a brow before giving Hancock a brief handshake and following Edun out of the city.

“So,” Edun after they’d been on the road a few minutes. “Is MacCready your first or last name?”

“Last name,” He answered, not looking at her. His eyes were on the road, surveying a cluster of wrecked and burned-out vehicles ahead.

“Do you have a first name?” Edun prompted. It was starting to feel a little like pulling teeth with him.

“Robert,” he replied, then wrinkled his nose. “But don’t call me that. Nobody does. Friends call me RJ. We aren’t necessarily friends, but judging from the way you reacted when Hancock referred to me as ‘Mac’...I don’t mind if you use RJ instead.”

“Sorry about that. I hope it didn’t come across as rude,” Edun said uncomfortably.

RJ snorted. “Keep paying me, and you can call me whatever you want so long as it’s not ‘Hey, Stupid’.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by several feral ghouls crawling out of the wreckage of the cars before them and throwing themselves towards the travelers with angry moans. RJ was quick to respond, getting two shots off before Edun had drawn her laser rifle. Well, he hadn’t been bragging. He  _ was  _ good. She caught the last ghoul in the chest, and it dropped beside the others. He’d seen the danger long before she’d considered it. She was starting to feel validated in her choice to bring him along.

Pickman Gallery, though not too far from Goodneighbor, took them through quite a bit of super mutant and raider territory. Once, they even stumbled upon a group of raiders fighting several super mutants. Edun motioned for RJ and Dogmeat to stay back, and she watched through the ruin of an old cargo truck as the mutants were victorious. They dragged the two surviving raiders away by the hair on their heads, unmoved by the kicking and screaming. Edun shuddered. She knew the mutants were either going to eat them or turn them. She wasn’t sure which option was worse. RJ watched as well, his mouth drawn in a thin line as similar thoughts no doubt churned through his head.

At one point, Edun let out an excited shout, and RJ whirled with his rifle up to see her crouched, fingers grazing the red brick line peeking out from some debris.

“It’s the Freedom Trail,” she said softly, the texture of the brick smooth beneath the pads of her fingers.

“Okay,” RJ said, not understanding.

She stood, casting her eyes about them, looking for a street sign. She located it, hanging from a bent pole.

“I used to live close to here,” she explained, her chest tight. She wondered if her house was still standing.

“Nobody lives out here,” RJ said flatly. “Too many muties.”

“Not now,” Edun said impatiently, continuing forward. “Before the bombs.”

“Before the...Wait, what? How is that possible?” RJ trotted to catch up to her. “You don’t look like no ghoul.” 

Edun sighed, and explained that she’d been frozen in a vault for 200 years before waking due to a malfunction. She told him how she’d found Preston and the others, and been recruited into their cause to rebuild the Minutemen. She kept things simple. The whole story about Nate and Nora and Shaun was something she didn’t want to rehash repeatedly, and she already had to explain things to the Detective when they got back to Diamond City. RJ listened carefully, absorbing her words. 

“You’re pretty spry for a 200-something-year-old,” he commented when she was done. “Nice of you to help Preston. Stupid, but nice of you.”

“Stupid?” Her tone was amused.

“Yeah. Stupid. Risking your life repeatedly for no reason. No caps, no payout. Giving away your skills for free...it’s stupid. You’ll have nothing to show for it at the end of the day.”

“You can’t really mean that,” Edun said with a raised brow. “It’s not stupid to want to help rebuild humanity. To make the commonwealth a safer place.” 

He shrugged. “The world will continue turning if you die. That’s how far gratitude goes.”

Edun knew she shouldn’t be surprised. He was a mercenary. He saw the world in much starker values of black and white than she did. She would not fool herself into thinking he was beside her now out of anything other than monetary interest. He was right, in that regard. If she died, he’d move on to the next job without batting an eye. It was the nature of his chosen profession.

Raiders were milling around the gallery, and Edun lobbed a grenade their way in greeting. Angry shouts followed the explosion, and those left standing branched out, searching for the source of it. Edun watched as RJ systematically picked them off in rapid succession, no hesitation and no misses. With the way cleared, they encroached on the gallery and Edun carefully opened the door. They stepped into the gloom. It took a moment for Edun’s eyes to adjust to the dim lighting after the bright daylight they had just been in, but she slowly made sense of the scene. There were a few more raiders down the hall, arguing amongst themselves loudly. She dealt with them first, lobbing a grenade into their midst. They didn’t hear it land amidst all the discord. 

The entire place was covered in blood spatter and gore. To her left, in a large room, bodies lay everywhere, and severed heads adorned the spikes of long poles stabbed into the floor. Paintings adorned the surrounding walls, and it was clear what the subjects had been. Some sick bastard had been killing raiders and using their remains to fuel art.  _ Okay, Step 9 would be Don't End Up On a Spike. _

“Interesting choice for our first mission together,” RJ commented, poking at one of the headless bodies with the muzzle of his rife. “Thanks for the nightmare fuel.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Edun rolled her eyes. “Hancock made it sound like a casual welfare check.  _ ‘Just swing by and take a look, no big deal’ _ ,” she mimicked the ghoul’s gravelly tone and saw RJ smirk. 

Edun wasn’t entirely sure she was sympathetic to the raiders. They had chosen lives of murder, theft, and rape. Now they had gone from hunters to hunted, a fitting punishment. Whoever had done this, though clearly twisted, was arguably doing good work. Edun had a long look around the room and then stepped through a large hole in the wall, following steps down into what appeared to be a series of tunnels beneath the gallery. Edun knew much of the city was connected by subterranean tunnels, but this was the first time she’d been in them. Ahead, she could hear voices echoing down the long tunnel.

_ “Pickman...Where are you...we know you’re down here, Pickman…”  _

“This is creepy as heck,” RJ commented as they passed an enormous pile of raider bodies. Someone had been dumping them here for some time, judging from the varying states of decay. The stench was atrocious down here, rotting flesh and a metallic, coppery tang on the air. Edun paused, pulling a bandanna from her pocket and tying it over her face. RJ followed suit, pulling his own bandanna up from around his neck to cover his nose and mouth. The covering helped somewhat, but Edun still had to fight a wave of nausea as her boots squelched through water that had been muddied by blood.

The voice again, calling for Pickman, louder now. They were close. There were a couple more raiders farther in, staggered among columns of stairs throughout the tunnel. They were hunting for this Pickman guy in earnest, and their distraction was helpful. Edun and RJ cleared them out quickly, including a turret the raiders had set up. Eventually, they came out onto a ledge overlooking a large room below. Pillars blocked some of her view, but Edun could see a man in a suit backed into a corner and surrounded by raiders. He had his hands up, but his face was utterly passive.

“...Finally got you, Pickman,” the voice from earlier was saying. “Thought you could hunt and torture our people to your heart’s content. I’m going to enjoy killing you...nice and slow, just like you’ve been killing us.” 

The raider encroached on Pickman, a long and wicked knife in his hand. Serial killer or not, Edun wasn’t about to just sit here and watch the man get tortured to death. She turned to RJ, gave him the signal to shoot to kill, and mouthed the words  _ raiders only.  _ RJ gave a short nod of confirmation, and the two of them crept to the ledge and opened fire. The raiders cried out in alarm, scattering to hide behind pillars amidst the barrage. Edun saw Pickman duck into cover, and without needing to worry further about his safety, she turned her attention solely to the raiders below. Only a couple were left alive now, RJ had been making excellent time as usual. Edun watched through her scope, waiting for someone to dare peek a limb or head out. The ringleader cautiously peered around his pillar, and Edun fired. She missed his eye, but heard a scream and saw a gout of blood as her bullet tore off his ear. He staggered back, out her vision, but she heard RJ’s rifle bark and knew the man had stumbled right into RJ’s view.

The last raider tried to run, leaving cover and dashing towards a ladder at the back of the room. Edun caught him in the back and he fell in a crumpled heap several feet away from his escape. With the last of the threats eliminated, Edun crouched at the edge and leaped down into the room below, RJ and Dogmeat following easily. Pickman, clutching a bullet wound in his arm but otherwise seemingly unscathed, emerged from cover and approached them. Edun kept her rifle ready, in case he decided to get stabby with her, too.

“That was close,” Pickman said in a smooth, cool voice. “I owe you my thanks. Those people deserved worse than death.”

“They sure wanted you badly,” Edun commented. “This place was crawling with them.”

Pickman smiled, an eerily blissful expression. “Yes, they...objected...to my hobby of collecting their heads. Let me repay you for your timely assistance.”

“I...ah, that’s really not necessary,” Edun mumbled.

“Nonsense,” insisted Pickman. “It’s the least I can do. If you visit my house again, look deep within my painting ‘Picnic for Stanley,’ and you will find my gratitude.” He extended a hand, and through sheer force of will Edun managed to stop herself from flinching. “You’ll need this.”

He placed a key in the palm of her hand, and without another word, turned and disappeared down one of the branching tunnels.

“You know, when a guy gives me a key to his place, it’s not usually a serial killer covered in other people’s blood,” Edun commented, partly to herself and partly to RJ. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Are we going back to see what’s behind that painting?” RJ asked, curious.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell. I’m not spending another second in here.”

As soon as they were above ground again, Edun yanked the bandanna from her face and took in a deep breath of fresh air. She wondered if she’d done the right thing, letting Pickman walk...but when she thought about what she’d seen of raiders and the things they did to their victims, her resolve hardened like armor around her heart.

“What now? Diamond City?” RJ asked, wiping sweat from his face after removing his covering as well. 

“I actually want to make a quick stop, now that we are done here.” Without further explanation, Edun made her way down the stairs and over the rubble of the building they’d come out in the middle of.

It took her a minute to orient herself, and half the street signs being under rubble made the going more difficult, but in time she began to recognize old storefronts and knew she was close. After half an hour of careful navigation and running into more than a few ghouls, she at last stood in front of the old Brownstone she’d once called home. Her mailbox, surprisingly, still stood -  _ Kowalski _ emblazoned across the side in now-tarnished lettering. She stood in front of the house for several long minutes, not sure if she wanted to go inside. Her eyes ran over the scene before her, taking in the details. The wooden fence was little more than a few rotted posts jutting from the ground like jagged teeth, slats blown this way and that across the street and dirty yard. Her once beautiful roses were blackened sticks against barren soil. Most of the windows were broken, shattered in the blast 200 years ago. Shutters hung at odd angles, the abused and rusted hinges barely hanging on. Behind her, RJ was silent, aware that this was something of a personal nature and required no commentary.

At long last, Edun stepped onto the shattered cobblestones of her walkway and walked up the couple stone steps. The door was ajar, the latch long since broken. The once lush, thick carpet was now rotten and tattered, thin and matted from debris and the elements. Filthy pillows were scattered around the living room, though one or two remained on the water-damaged couches. She walked through the old living room, and noticed with some amusement that bits of broken glass and china still adorned the bricks of the fireplace. She’d never cleaned it up, rather leaving it as a reminder to herself over the following month.  _ Don’t take him back. Don’t let him into your heart or your bed ever again.  _ Despite what he’d done, those first couple weeks without James had been lonely. She’d come back from her tour in Alaska with a terrible burden of guilt and grief, and the one person who she thought might make it easier to bear had betrayed her. As tough as she’d acted when kicking him out, she’d spent the night on the couch - sobbing, drunk on wine, dreading sleep. That night, her home had ceased to feel like a sanctuary. The love and warmth of it was gone, and though it would not bear the damage of a nuclear blast until later...in her heart it might as well have been in the condition it was now.

She tensed at the sound of movement, a shuffling of feet, and Dogmeat let out a growl. Turning, she saw RJ raising his rifle towards a figure in the doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Wait,” she ordered, holding out a hand. RJ paused, but she could see from the way he was coiled he would be ready to strike if needed.

A ghoul stood in the doorway, a tattered suit hanging from his gaunt body and the milky, unsettling eyes shifted from RJ to focus on her. There was something terrible and familiar about him, and when he spoke it was as though Edun had been punched in the gut.

“You,” the ghoul breathed. “After all this time? My god, Edun, _ look at you _ . You look exactly the same.”

“James,” she answered tightly, “Is that you?”

“How is this possible?” He demanded, stepping closer. RJ followed him with his rifle warningly, and James stopped, contemplating the situation.

“I was frozen in a vault for 200 years,” Edun said, taking a step back. She didn’t want him close to her. Not now, not ever. He noticed the withdrawal, and sorrow darkened his face. 

“You think I’d hurt you?” He asked in a low, pained voice.

“I don’t know  _ what _ you’d do,” she answered. “What are you doing here?”

“This was our home,” he replied. “When the bombs struck, I was at work in Cambridge. There was little warning. A handful of us made it to the emergency shelter reserved for staff. Everyone died but me. I... thought I would die, too. I got sick.  _ Real _ sick. My skin sloughed off in places and I threw up again and again until nothing but blood came up.” He moved around the couch, let himself fall into it. Edun slowly relaxed. He was no danger to her. He was a broken and lonely man. She could see that now.

“I faded in and out. I heard all kinds of noise the first couple of days, then some screaming...snarling...and then nothing. I don’t know how long I was down there after the long spells of unconsciousness took me, but eventually the sickness abated, and I was left looking like this. Skin like melted wax, meat hanging from bone. A monstrosity. When I finally crawled out of that shelter, the world was transformed into some kind of hellscape. Those who had survived the blast were like me, or...different. Wild, crazy, violent.” He leaned forward. “All I could think about was how the last time I saw you, I’d destroyed everything we built. I made my way back to Boston. I had to see if you were dead, or...like me.” Tears glimmered in his ghostly eyes, and RJ slowly lowered his rifle.

“When I got here...you were gone. There was no sign of you, not even a body. Our car was gone. For two hundred years, I looked for some sign of you.” He shook his head. “I’ve been alone for  _ so long _ . And all this time, you were tucked away...safe. Unharmed. Whole and healthy.” There was no bitterness to his words, only the hard edge of regret. The pain of hindsight.

“It wasn’t something I planned for,” she said softly. “I just...ended up in the wrong place at the right time.” 

“There’s so much I’ve wanted to say...for so long.” James spread his hands helplessly. “I’m...sorry. I’m so sorry, Edun. You’ve got to believe that. I was an idiot, and I’ve spent the last 200 years regretting it and wishing I could make it right.” He laughed, low and guttural. “I never feared hell. Never believed in it. But damn if I don’t, now. I’ve been in hell for what feels an eternity, forced to reflect on my mistakes.”

“I forgive you,” she said softly, the words surprising her - not so much by their unexpectedness, but by the truth to them. Seeing him like this, hearing what he’d gone through...she had no malice left in her heart towards him. Only pity.

“Thank you,” he said hoarsely, his voice wavering and thick with grief.

“Is there...anything I can do for you?” Edun asked. 

His eyes bored into her, desperation flickering in their depths. She regretted her question as soon as she uttered it, for she recognized that terrible look in his eyes.

“Kill me,” his voice was barely over a whisper. “I can’t...do this anymore. My hope to see you again or at the very least find closure is all that has kept me going, and now...here you are. It is done. I can’t do it myself. I’m too much of a coward. I’ve tried  _ so many times _ over these long years, but...I can’t.”

She could feel RJ’s eyes on her, waiting for her answer, while she stared at the man who had once been her husband in horror.

“You want me to...  _ murder  _ you?” She gasped. As angry as she’d been that night, killing him had never been even an inkling of an option in her mind. Now he sat before her,  _ begging _ her to do it.

“It would be a fitting end, wouldn’t it?” His cracked lips spread into a thin smile. “The philanderer brought to justice by the woman he wronged.” 

“You think  _ killing  _ you would bring me any measure of peace?” She was incredulous. “The punishment is hardly befitting the crime, here. No. I won’t do it.” She shook her head emphatically.

James gazed at her for a long moment, before standing and walking back into the kitchen. Edun flicked an uneasy gaze towards RJ, who shrugged in puzzlement. When James returned, he was holding a shotgun. He raised it and leveled it at her.

“I’ll make it easy for you,” he cajoled, finger resting lightly on the trigger. She arched an eyebrow and left her hands dangling at her sides.

“No. You’ll have to shoot me.”

James turned the shotgun towards RJ, who let out a snarl and raised his rifle again.

“Then I’ll shoot your friend here,” James said calmly. “Unless he shoots me, first.”

_ “Edun,” _ RJ said warningly. “I’ll do it. Stop him or I will.” 

Edun’s heart was hammering against her ribs, and her hand was shaking as she unholstered her .44 and raised it to point at James.

“Stop, James,” she pleaded. “Leave him out of this. This is between you and me.”

James turned his eyes to her, but kept his shotgun aimed at RJ. A tear slipped from one eye, tracing its way down his gnarled cheek, and she saw his finger begin to tighten around the trigger. A shot rang out, and Edun let out a cry as blood and brain matter exploded across the doorway and wall behind James before he fell to the floor, dead.

RJ was staring at her, looking her over, from her wild eyes to her shaking hands to the smoke rising from the barrel of the .44 Magnum. She was unmoving, her feet still shoulder’s width apart and both hands still clinging to the gun, holding it up and pointed at the spot where James had stood. She was hyperventilating, struggling to breathe, shock spreading over her like an icy blanket. She felt dizzy and swayed on her feet. RJ crossed the room to her, stopped beside her. He placed a hand over the .44, gently prising it from her stiff fingers. She let him take it from her, watched dumbly as he set it on the rickety coffee table before steering her to an armchair and pushing her into it firmly. 

“Lean forward, head between your knees, and breathe as deeply as you can for me,” he instructed her. His tone brooked no argument. She obeyed, and he kept a hand on her back - flat, fingers spread, though whether it was meant to be comforting or ensure she stayed put she wasn’t sure. After a few minutes, the overwhelming panic began to subside. When she’d regained some manner of control over herself, he took the hand from her back and allowed her to sit upright.

“I’m…” she began to say, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. What you just went through would be effing stressful for anyone. You don’t have to apologize, okay, so don’t. You apologize for things way too much. Stop it.” 

She felt color flood her cheeks, but didn’t argue with him. He was right, of course. She came from a time when people focused far too much on politeness. In a world where survival was first and foremost, there was little room for softness and apologizing for every little perceived inconvenience.

“You’re not what I expected,” RJ said after a long stretch of silence. Edun looked at him warily.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She inquired.

“Depends on how you look at it,” he replied. “Being so goody-twoshoes it’s to your own detriment isn’t necessarily a good thing. You gotta be careful with that. But you seem to have a clear sense of right and wrong, and I can appreciate that. Most of my clients tend to be more...morally flexible. We’ll leave it at that.”

“Right, well, thanks. I think.” RJ only gave her a dry smile in return. Edun shifted, pulled herself up out of the chair, being careful not to look towards the kitchen door. “Let’s...get out of here. We have enough daylight to make it to Diamond City before evening, and I don’t think there is anything left for me here.”

“Lead the way, boss,” RJ answered noncommittally, shouldering his rifle again. Edun left the door swinging open behind them.  _ Let the elements have this place. _


	14. Right On the Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: Kellogg dies. For the millionth time. Fuck that guy.

Edun’s first order of business was another bowl of those absolutely lovely noodles. This time, she got Dogmeat his own bowl...as well as a bowl for RJ, who downed them with an enthusiasm to match her own. There were many things about the wasteland that were hard to love, but these noodles weren’t one of them. She was nearly finished with her meal when a familiar face slid into view. Piper perched on the stool beside her, her red hat in its usual place atop her head. She gave Edun a big grin.

“I wondered if I’d see you again,” the woman said before flagging down Takahashi for a bowl. “Now that I have your ear...I was wondering if I could get an interview from you.”

“Why would you want to interview me?” Edun asked, feeling somewhat wary.

“Aw, come on, Blue. You think I haven’t been doing my research on you? A vault dweller, searching for a kidnapped child... That’s the kind of story the people of the commonwealth yearn for.”

“So I’m looking for a lost kid,” Edun shrugged. “What’s the point of an interview? Doesn’t seem that newsworthy.”

Piper’s eyes were gleaming, but she took a moment to sip some broth before she spoke again. “Maybe writing the story might help jog some memories. Maybe someone out there knows something, and seeing your account could help. Either way, your story will give people hope. You’re not the only person who has lost someone. For years, people have been disappearing with no warning, and loved ones are left behind wondering what happened. They may never know.”

Edun chewed on her lip thoughtfully. Ordinarily, she considered herself a private person. The thought of putting her story down on paper and distributing it to the masses made her recoil inwardly. The point Piper made was a good one, though. Putting it out there might bear some fruit.

“What’s this about a missing kid?” RJ piped up from her right elbow. Edun waved him off.

“I’ll explain later,” she told him. She turned back to Piper. “Fine. You can have your interview. Just keep it brief.”

Piper had a pen and notepad out of her satchel so fast Edun barely caught the movement. She opened the pad to a fresh page, poised her pen, and began.

“So, I know you’re from a vault. How would you describe your time on the inside?”

Edun bit back a laugh. “I spent the last 200 years in cryogenic stasis. I didn’t see much of the vault.”

Piper paused, mouth agape. “Are you saying...you were alive before the War? You saw everything before it was blasted to pieces?”

“Yeah. I, ah...entered the vault the day the bombs fell.  _ Watched _ one of them fall, actually.”

“Holy shit,” Piper muttered to herself, before scribbling furiously on her notepad for a minute. When she was done, she continued to the next question. “You’ve seen the commonwealth. Diamond City. How does it compare to your old life?”

“Honestly, I…” Edun trailed off, deep in thought. “The world I left behind was chaos. Depleting resources, a war dragging on for years, the constant threat of nuclear annihilation…It was far from perfect.  _ This _ world is unexpected, but somehow gives me hope. Despite the terrible war, despite our countries all nuking each other...humanity survived. You’ve got people, spread thin but still holding on, carving out a living for themselves in a harsh and irradiated world. That’s human beings for you...They never give up. They always find a way to carry on.”

“I’m definitely quoting  _ that _ ,” Piper said, scribbling some more. “Now for the big question. You came all this way looking for someone. Who is it?”

Edun had been dreading this question. She could not, would not, spill the entire story for all of the Commonwealth to hear. So instead, she answered simply.

“The... child of a good friend. A baby, about a year old.”

“A lost child,” Piper chewed on the eraser of her pencil. “A tragic tale, and not uncommon these days. Tell me, do you think the Institute was involved?”

“So far, all the signs point to yes on that one,” Edun shrugged. “I’m hoping Nick can shed some light on that.”

“Okay, for the last part of our interview, I want you to make a statement to the people directly. The threat of kidnapping is all but ignored in the commonwealth. Everyone wants to tuck their heads in the sand and pretend it doesn’t happen. What would you say to someone who’s lost a loved one, but might be too scared or numb to the world to look for them?” 

“I suppose I would say...Don’t give up. No matter how much you want to. In the great words of Emily Dickinson…  _ ‘Hope is the thing with feathers...that perches in the soul...And sings the tune without the words...And never stops at all.”  _

“That’s...beautiful.” Piper was looking at Edun with a mix of emotions in her eyes, none of which Edun could quite identify. The reporter wrote a few more notes, and then closed the notepad.

“All done?” Edun asked, feeling somewhat relieved that she was no longer being grilled.

“All done,” Piper confirmed, tucking her notebook and pen back in her satchel. “You know, if you ever need someone to tag along with you...Show you the world out there...You let me know, okay?” 

“She’s  _ got _ company,” RJ muttered from where he was looking mournfully into his empty bowl. Piper gave Edun a little half-smile and a wink, and hopped off her stool.

“You know where to find me if you need me,” she reiterated. “And be sure to stop by the next time you’re in town. Nat will give you a free copy of the edition featuring your interview.”

Edun turned to watch the woman go before swiveling back to RJ. “If you’re done scraping the bottom of your noodle bowl, we can head over to Nick’s now,” she said drily. Any further discussion was interrupted by a commotion behind them.

“Don’t move, synth!” A voice roared from behind them. “What have you done with the real Riley?  _ Where’s my brother!?” _

For a moment, Edun froze. Then she turned slowly on her stool to see what was going on. A man had drawn his pistol on another, shaking as he aimed it at the presumed Riley. Sweat beaded his forehead and his eyes darted about nervously, wild and panicked.

“I swear I’m not a synth, don’t shoot! For god’s sake, we’re family!” Riley had his hands in the air and was attempting to back away slowly from the man holding him at gunpoint.

“Put the gun down,  _ now.”  _ Diamond City security had flooded the market, and trained their rifles on the armed man. The guard who spoke stepped closer, finger on the trigger.

“He’s a synth!” The gunman bellowed. “He’ll kill us all!”

The guard didn’t wait another second. He fired off a shot, and the man crumpled to the ground.

“Kyle, no!” Riley screamed, falling to his knees beside his dead brother.

“Show’s over,” the guard said, brandishing his rifle at the crowd, who shrank back in response. “There are no synths in Diamond City, you hear me? Just you folks and your damn paranoia. Clear the area. Get back to your business.”

“That’s our cue to get the hell out of here,” Edun said under her breath, sliding from her stool and striding out of the market as quickly as she dared. She was a visitor and a novelty to this city, and had no double she’d received her share of backstabbing scrutiny. How long before someone decided  _ she  _ was a synth?

“What a bunch of loonies,” RJ muttered as they made their way down the alley to Nick’s agency. “They’re not really the type to lend any sugar to their neighbors, I’d wager.”

“Definitely not,” Edun agreed as she pushed the door to Nick’s office open.

Ellie greeted them enthusiastically, throwing her arms around first Edun and then RJ, even though she’d never met the man. Edun found herself rather amused as she watched RJ’s face turn bright red and his hands fluttered at Ellie’s sides anxiously. He had not expected to be tackled thusly, and by a pretty girl no less. 

“Ah, heck, lady, don’t look at me, I didn’t do anything,” He protested as he did his best to squirm out of the embrace. Ellie did not seem to notice, and clasped his face in her hands.

“Nonsense, any help you’ve offered this woman was help you offered Nick, and for that I am grateful.” Her eyes were shining and her cheeks were pink, and Edun hid a smile as she watched the realization of her overt familiarity dawn on Ellie. She let her hands drop, cleared her throat, and nervously smoothed her skirt.

“Ellie,” came Nick’s voice as he walked in from the back room, “Why don’t you offer our guests some water, and we’ll get started.” 

“Yes, of course,” Ellie jumped to at once, startling out of her embarrassment and rummaging through a drawer. She produced a couple bottles of water, and handed one to each of them before withdrawing to a far corner, eyes still somewhat wide as she tried to avoid meeting RJ’s gaze.

“Now that we’re all hugged out,” Nick said drily, gesturing to the chair opposite his own, “Have a seat and tell me everything.” 

Edun sat, and immediately wondered how much she could hold back and how much she should share. She would leave out the tale of the crashed bird. There was no need to rehash the details of that night, and the less she spoke of it the easier it was to bear. Besides, spilling her guts wasn’t necessary to the investigation.

“The baby I’m looking for...he’s the child of a friend. Someone I lost in the war. His mother...couldn’t make it. She begged me to take him to the vault. He’s about a year old.”

Nick nodded, writing something down. “What is the first thing you remember the day he was kidnapped? Every detail helps.”

“There were people in white biohazard suits. They opened my pod, tried to take the kid from me. I wouldn’t let them, but then…” She closed her eyes, remembered the man with the scar pointing that pistol at her. “There was someone else with them. He said if I didn’t let go of the kid, he’d shoot me. I refused to comply and he shot me. Once, twice.” She touched each place she’d been shot, still remembering the bullets tearing through her.

“Did you get a good look at his face?” Nick asked gently.

She nodded. “He had a long scar on the left side of his face, running from mid-forehead to mid-cheek. Deep and wide. Balding, older. Maybe late forties. He was dressed a little like your typical raider, but...different. Rough, but well-armored. I’d guess he was a mercenary of some sort. After he shot me, one of the scientists expressed concern. Said they might still  _ need  _ me. He told them I wouldn’t die, that they still had their...spare. And then they closed the pod and froze me again.”

She hadn’t realized she was doing it, but Edun’s knuckles were white from gripping the arm rests so hard. 

“A man with a scar…That’s a pretty significant marker. You didn’t hear the name ‘Kellogg,’ did you?” Nick looked deeply thoughtful as he mentally recalled something.

“I don’t think so. Nobody used any names, that I recall.”

“This is too much of a coincidence…” Nick turned to Ellie. “What notes do we have about the Kellogg case?”

Ellie pulled a file from one of the many cabinets and flipped through it. “The description matches,” she said as she scanned the contents. “Bald head. Scar. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work, but no one knows who his employer is.”

“He bought a house here in town, right? Had a kid with him?” Nick had a look about him, like a shark catching the scent of prey. He was in his element now.

“That’s right,” Ellie said, her eyes skimming farther down. “The house in the abandoned West Stands. But...the boy with him was around ten years old.”

“So not a baby, then,” Edun frowned, feeling disappointed. Not Shaun.

“Either way, he sounds like our guy. We don’t know how that kid plays into this yet. Could be his son, could be someone else’s kid. We just don’t know. That said, I’m all but positive this is the guy we’re looking for. The description is too similar, too specific, to be mere chance. Our best bet is to head over to his abandoned house and look the place over. We might be able to find some useful clues that can tell us where he went from here.” 

“Sounds like as good of a plan as any,” Edun rose from her chair as Nick stood from his. Something was nagging at her...a fear that maybe she’d been frozen longer than she thought. Maybe the ten year old kid this Kellogg was dragging around with him was Shaun, no longer a baby. She’d have no way of knowing until they found him, she supposed. RJ had been quiet through all this, looking tense. As they followed the Detective through Diamond City and toward the West Stands, Edun nudged him.

“You’re quiet.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” the young man shrugged. “You’re full of surprises. First I find out you’re a vaultie, then I find out you’re over 200 years old, _ then _ we come here and I find out you’re chasing down some kid you swore to protect. What’s next? You pull a rabbit from a hat?” 

“I don’t think there  _ are  _ rabbits anymore, so no. But maybe a mole rat.”

RJ wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Please don’t. I hate those things.”

“Thanks for sticking with me, despite all the twists and turns,” Edun said simply.

“I’m here for the caps,” RJ said dismissively, but Edun saw a smile at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t such a tough guy after all. “This kid… What are you going to do when you get him back?” 

“Only thing I can do, I suppose,” Edun answered. “Raise him and try to make sure he has a good life. I’m the only thing left of the world he came from, and...the only person who knows anything about his parents. I owe him that much. I owe him his history, and my memories. He deserves anything I can give him.” 

She saw approval in RJ’s eyes as he regarded her quietly, before giving her a tight nod. He liked her answer, and his softening at it surprised her. 

They followed Nick up several flights of metal stairs before stopping in front of a thick steel door. No doubt the mysterious Kellogg’s old home. She watched Nick check the seams of the door and jiggle the knob before turning to Edun.

“It’s too solid to kick in. See if there’s anything you can do with it.” 

Edun pulled her bobby pins and a filed-down screwdriver from her pack and got to work. It took some doing - four bobby pins perished before she found the latch point - but eventually the lock clicked and the door creaked open an inch.

“Hell of a talent you’ve got there,” Nick commented, following Edun into the dark house. The lone window was covered, and it was pitch black inside. Nick clicked on a flashlight, and Edun switched on her pip boy’s green lamp. The house was small. Far too small for a grown man with a kid in tow. There was a tiny living room and a small loft above. A tattered couch and armchair faced an old TV, and magazines were scattered about. Everything was grimy, a layer of dust and filth gracing most surfaces besides the high-traffic areas. Kellogg had not been a particularly tidy man, though the grime was the worst of it. To one side there stood a desk lamp, and there was a click as Nick switched it on. With a sufficient light source, both of them turned off their personal lights. Nick turned, his yellow eyes taking in their surroundings with his hands on his hips.

“This place feel a little...small to you?” He asked her.

“It feels like a broom closet,” Edun replied.

“Doesn’t seem like the lair of a deadly mercenary at all,” RJ piped up. “Where would he keep all the good stuff?”

“Where indeed,” Nick mused, circling the desk. He opened the drawers, smoothed his hand over the surface, and after a moment of examination Edun heard a hiss of satisfaction from the Detective. He’d found something on the underside of the desk, and there was a  _ click  _ and then the rasp of a mechanism as a false wall retracted, revealing a secret room.

“Bingo,” Nick exclaimed, stepping away from the desk and into the secret room. Edun followed. Here was, as RJ put it,  _ all the good stuff.  _ Shelves lined the walls and were laden with all sorts of weapons, ammunition, and supplies. RJ let out a low croon as he approached the shelves and ran his fingers over the assortment of guns.

“Take whatever you want,” Edun said as she moved about the room, searching for clues. “Better in your hands than his.”

There was an armchair, and beside it on a small table there were empty beer bottles and a pack of San Francisco Sunlights - one of them half-smoked and resting in the ashtray. The sweet, almost cloying odor of the slender cigars still hung in the air. Kellogg had a penchant for the finer things in life, it would seem. They scoured the room, but there was nothing to indicate where the two had gone from here. No notes, no items to hint at their possible destinations. Nothing. The house was a dead end. Edun leaned against a wall and sighed. It was disappointing to have come so far only to run out of leads.

“You know…” Nick said, looking down at Dogmeat, “Dogmeat here has one hell of a nose. We’ve worked together on things before, and he can track down just about anything. Why don’t we see if he can pick up a scent?”

“What do you think, babydoll?” Edun crouched beside the dog, ruffling his fur. “Think you can lead us to our guy?” Dogmeat answered with a long, wet, slurping lick up the side of her face. Edun laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She reached out and snagged the half-gone cigar from the ashtray and offered it to the dog. He considered it carefully, his shiny black nose twitching side to side as he sniffed at it. Once he’d gotten a thorough examination in, he trotted to the door, claws clicking on the hard metal floor, and barked.

“Looks like he’s got something,” Edun commented. “Hope you boys wore your joggers today.” RJ and Nick both looked at her somewhat blankly, and Edun didn’t try to explain the nuances of pre-war exercise wear. She opened the door for the dog, and watched him bound out and down the steel stairs before following him.

-

Fort Hagen had been absolutely crawling with synths, the same kind she’d encountered back at ArcJet Systems. White faces, glowing circular eyes similar to Nick’s, moving parts visible amidst the polymer body panels. They attacked on sight, and it was a long and grim push through the old building. She found herself once again grateful for RJ’s company, even if it had been bought. Despite the closer quarters, he was no less a crack shot. More than once he saved her from acquiring a few new holes when synths rounded corners on her or turrets opened fire on them from above. They were halfway through the building, working their way to the lower floors, when a familiar voice - low, raspy, and cold - came over the speaker system above them.

_ “ If it isn’t my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”  _ Nick flashed a look at Edun, and she gave him an affirmative nod. Another wave of synths headed up the corridor towards them, and they fought their way through. At a security door, the voice continued.

_ “Look, you’re pissed off. I get it. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It’s not going to go your way.”  _

_ Like hell it wasn’t. She was going to return the two bullets he’d given her, plus maybe a couple more.  _ She clenched her jaw tightly, her actions fueled by anger and her tactics taking on an edge of recklessness. She lobbed grenades down hallways, close enough she felt the concussive blasts like a fist punching her in the chest. She charged the next few synths they encountered with little regard for cover, firing on them with a ferocity she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the glory days, those first years in the USAF when she manned the minigun rather than flew the birds.

_ “You’ve got guts and determination, and that’s admirable. But you are in way over your head, in ways you can’t possibly comprehend.”  _ Kellogg’s voice continued overhead, feeding the pulsing rage beating in her chest and ears.

She approached another security gate and stumbled right into a tesla trap, her body going rigid as currents passed through her tissues. She fell backwards, a cry of pain frozen in her throat, and RJ caught her. She was dazed, and the air smelled like ozone and burnt hair around them. Her muscles were in agony, the rictus from the response to electricity slowly relaxing.

“You’ve got to stop this shit,” RJ growled, looking down at her disapprovingly as Nick grabbed a stimpack from his bag and pulled her sleeve up. “You’re going to get yourself killed, charging through here like a mad bull. He’s trying to piss you off, and it’s working. An angry target is easier to kill than a focused one.” 

She closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing. In for five seconds, out for five seconds. The stimpack flooded her system, soothing over and repairing the damaged nerves and muscle fibers. RJ was right, of course. And if Kellogg was the badass career mercenary he seemed to be, she would need her wits about her. She opened her mouth to speak.

“If that’s an apology about to come out of your lips, it had better stay there,” RJ growled, not unkindly. “We talked about this.” 

She let her mouth snap shut, and instead took Nick’s offered hand. He pulled her back to her feet, RJ’s hands helping push her upright.

“Thanks,” she muttered, dusting off invisible dirt and picking up her rifle from where she’d dropped it. She was quiet, more collected, as she picked the lock on the security gate and they pushed forward.

_ “ It’s not too late,” _ Kellogg’s voice again. Less mocking, a more serious warning.  _ “Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people who have met me can say that.” _

Edun tuned him out, letting the voice become white noise in the background. They ran into a few more synths, but eventually came to one final security door.

_ “Okay, you made it. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk.”  _ The door swung open of its own accord, granting them access. Edun proceeded slowly, wary of another trap and scanning the area as they passed through the doorway, up a short hall, and into what appeared to be an old office with a wooden door on the far wall. She paused in the room before moving forward, loading a fresh magazine and making sure her pistol was loaded as well. RJ and Nick followed suit, reloading and taking stock.

“Be ready,” Edun said softly. “This could be a trap.” 

“Sure as heck isn’t going to be a tea party,” RJ commented sarcastically. Edun half expected the wooden door to be locked, but it swung open - deceptively sturdy and solid beneath her hand. The room ahead was dark save for an emergency light casting dim illumination overhead. Edun remained tense, rifle raised and ready for a fight. She could see the gleam of synth eyes ahead, in the dark recesses of the room. It was ghostly, eerie, and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She was wondering if she’d walked into some sort of ambush, when out of the shadows strolled the man from her memories. 

“I gave you a 50/50 chance of making it here. I figured something nasty out there in the wasteland would have eaten you by now,” Kellogg’s harsh voice carried across the distance between them. 

“Stay here and watch my back,” she whispered to RJ before walking towards Kellogg. Nick flanked her, giving her a few feet of space. The poor lighting only served to enhance Kellogg’s hard features - the rippled lines of his facial scar. The hollowed cheeks. The deep-set eyes, glinting with amusement and malice. His posture was easy, casual, as though they were two friends meeting for coffee at a park. She didn’t let his stance fool her - she saw how his right hand rested close to his handgun, the handle gleaming and unrestrained. The question wasn’t if, but when, he planned on drawing it.

“Maybe  _ I’m _ the nastiest thing out there in the wasteland,” she growled. Kellogg laughed at that.

“Maybe. I heard about your tangle with the Deathclaw. That was some nice work, for a wet-behind-the-ears Vaultie. But enough chit-chat. We know why you’re here. You’re looking for your son.” 

“Where  _ the fuck _ is Shaun?” Edun demanded. There was no need to discuss the kid’s true origins with a dead man.

“Your son is a great kid. A little older than you may have expected, but I’m guessing you figured that out by now. If you’re expecting a happy reunion, it ain’t gonna happen. He’s not here.”

Edun sucked in a breath, struggling to keep a grip on her patience. “So where  _ is  _ he?”

“He’s in a good place. Somewhere he’s safe, loved, comfortable. A place he calls home. The Institute.”

“I  _ knew _ it,” Edun snarled, grip tightening on her rifle. “And just how do I get in there?”

“Let him go,” Kellog said, shaking his head. “Your time’s done. Your son is exactly where he belongs.”

“Being raised by a bunch of kidnappers is the very last fucking place he belongs,” Edun argued. “You’re going to take me to him  _ right now.” _

“Like I could, even if I wanted to.” Kellogg chuckled, an unpleasant and wicked sound. “Don’t you get it? Shaun is somewhere you will never be able to reach. Nobody can.”

“Then what good is dancing around in circles with you going to do me?” He’d given her nothing. Less than nothing, and she was tired of this game.

“All good things must come to an end,” Kellogg replied. The whisper of metal against leather was just enough warning, and Edun dodged to the side just in time as Kellogg drew his pistol and fired off a round in the direction of where her face had been a second ago. She felt the bullet graze her cheek, felt blood immediately well up in the shallow groove left behind, and rolled. She swept Kellogg’s legs out from under him with a vicious sweeping kick, and she could tell he hadn’t been prepared for a tactic like that. It was easy to point and shoot at people, but right about now Edun was feeling grateful for all those hand-to-hand combat classes the USAF had made her go through. Her moment of victory was short-lived. Kellogg twisted like an angry wildcat and delivered a powerful blow to her temple with the butt of his pistol. Edun fell back, stars speckling her vision, and Kellogg leaped on her. She felt his hands wrap around her throat, and his thumbs depressed into her windpipe with terrible force.

Blood roared in Edun’s ears and she gasped for air, flailing and kicking, furious. But Kellogg outweighed her by at least fifty pounds, and was heavily muscled beneath all that armor. RJ’s words came back to her, amidst the battle she was waging and the sounds of a firefight in full effect around her as RJ and Nick fought for their lives.  _ An angry target is easier to kill than a focused one.  _ She struggled to focus, the pain in her airway reaching a crescendo, and in a swift motion brought her arms up between Kellogg’s, clasping them together and bending them at the elbow before driving them with as much force as she could muster into the crook of his right arm. His arm gave way, breaking one hand loose. The other relaxed its grip just enough, and she twisted. Using her right leg to pivot him to the side, she threw him off of her. The din of synths fighting RJ and Nick was deafening, and she had a fleeting thought of concern as she drove her fist into Kellogg’s nose. She hoped Nick and RJ were alright. She had no way of assisting them at the moment.

Bone gave way beneath her knuckles as Kellogg’s nose broke under the force behind her fist. A great gout of blood sprayed from his nostrils, but he hardly seemed to notice. She hailed blows down on him, and he fended off most of them with his arms up in defense. She gasped when he caught her in the side and ribs with a vicious knee, and rolled away from him again, leaping to her feet and ignoring the blossoming agony in her side. He’d definitely damaged something. He reached for his pistol, and she saw him mentally check himself as he realized it was no longer in its holster. It had spun away in their brief fracas, and was well out of his reach. Her rifle had gone flying as well, but no matter. She still had her own .44 Magnum, almost a twin to his - though his was anodized black, and hers was the original silver nickel. His face hardened, realizing his dilemma, and then she was pulling the revolver and bringing it up to target. With a surprising amount of speed, Kellog ducked behind one of the bulky terminal stations.  _ Shit.  _ if she went after him, she risked giving him an opening to dive for his pistol. If she stayed put, he might be able to pull something else out of his sleeve to surprise her with. Teeth bared, she steeled herself and moved towards the console. Step 10: Kill Conrad Kellogg Before He Killed Her.

“I put two holes in you, back in that vault,” Kellogg called from his hiding spot. “Maybe it’s time I gave you a few more.” 

She didn’t answer. He was egging her on, she knew it, and she wasn’t going to let him get to her. A retort would only tell him how close she was and from which side she was coming, and she wasn’t about to give him that information. 

“Come on, girly. Don’t be scared. I’ll give you a quick death. It’s more than I’ve given most.” 

She was crouched, moving forward slowly. She could see his shadow now, cast long by the flickering overhead light. She could see motion, but had no idea what he was up to back there. With a surge of speed, she rounded the corner and fired off a shot. From the corner of her eye, she saw a fleeting movement and felt something hit her chest. He was throwing trash at her now? She ignored it, adrenaline pumping through her with a violent pulse, and looked down at Kellogg. Her shot had fired true, hitting him right at the hollow of his throat. He was choking on his own blood, and it gurgled and burbled out from between his lips. He was shaking, and she realized with shock that he was  _ laughing _ … or trying to, despite his ruined throat. His eyes were fixated on her, and he raised a wavering hand to point at her chest. Edun furrowed her brow and looked down. The black textured handle of a long combat knife protruded from her chest. None of the blade showed.  _ Ah, damn. Did Step 10 still count?... _ The knife had buried itself deep, and she realized as though from somewhere far away that the room around her was darker than it had been, the walls closing in tightly around her. Her vision blurred, and she fell backwards - crashing into one of the many consoles in the room. The last thing she remembered was hearing a shout of alarm from Nick.


	15. Not That Kind of Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edun drowns in her feels and makes some poor decisions.  
> _________________

A familiar voice greeted Edun when she opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light of the room.

“You’ve got a funny effin’ habit of stressing me out,” RJ said from somewhere. She blinked several times, and the room slowly came into focus. She was in her Sanctuary home, and RJ was sitting in a chair near the door, staring at her intently. Dogmeat napped on a blanket placed carefully next to the bed. He was utterly dead to the world, and their voices did not rouse him from his dreams of chasing things.

“How long have I been out?” She asked, ignoring RJ’s complaint.

“A full night and day,” he answered. “That knife hit an artery. It was all Nick and I could do to patch you up enough to move you. You lost a lot of blood. We had to carry you all the way here. My shoulders are _still_ sore.” He was clearly in a mood, and Edun sighed.

“Thank you. That’s twice in a row you saved my ass.”

“Yeah, I’m counting. I’ll add it to the invoice.” His tone was insolent, but she could see the amusement in his eyes despite the words.

“You were a hell of an investment, you know,” Edun said. “Worth three times what you asked of me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not entirely without charity. Figured you for a basket case the moment I met you. Couldn’t let you wander off and get yourself hurt.” Was she imagining it, or was he sincerely enjoying the praise?

“How’s Nick? Both of you come out of that fight okay?” She asked softly. She licked her lips. She was terribly thirsty.

“He’s fine. He’s made of metal, remember? I was more in danger than he was. Anyway, he took a couple rounds. Wasn’t a huge deal. Your friend Sturges patched him right up. He’s been waiting for you to wake up. He and that other fellow. Preston. They’ve been waiting to swarm you. Nick wanted to share something he found with you, and Preston...he’s just been wringing his hands like an old woman and wearing holes in the sidewalk with all that dang pacing he’s doing.”

Edun laughed, then winced. She was wearing an oversized flannel shirt, and there was a bandage over her chest. She peered down, pulling the shirt open to gaze at the bandage. She must have pulled too much, because when she looked back up RJ’s face was bright pink and he was studiously staring at the ceiling. He really was young and relatively inexperienced, she mused. That was hardly enough skin to make a nun cross herself. He looked desperate for an escape, so she gave him one.

“Can you fetch Preston for me? Nick after?” she requested. RJ, still focused on the ceiling, nodded and headed to the front door.

“That will be fifty caps,” he said saucily before ducking out.  _ Why that money-hungry little snippet.  _ She grinned despite herself, forcing down another chuckle. The last one hurt enough. Shortly after RJ left, the door swung open again on its hinges with more force than was normal, and she saw Preston filling the doorway with his broad shoulders. He strode over to her, an expression of earnest concern on his face, and he looked almost like he might try to hug her before thinking better of it. Dogmeat cracked an eye open, greeted Preston with a few thumps of his tail, and returned to his snooze.  _ Lazy beast. _

“Hey,” She said, smiling up at him wanly.

“Hey,” He said, letting out a long breath with it.

“You doing okay?” She asked him, gesturing at the chair. He sat in it, taking up considerably more space than the slender RJ. 

“Well, let’s see. There I was, chatting with Mama Murphy while she worked on the newly sprouting corn, and the next moment I see Nick Valentine and your new mercenary friend rushing through our gates, carrying you, covered in dried blood and unconscious. You sure know how to keep a heart rate up, Edun.” He took his hat off and ran a hand through his thick, dark curls. 

“Sorry,” she said quietly. In her head she could hear RJ rebuking her for the word. “Wasn’t intentional, I swear. I got a bit tangled up with a rather unpleasant man named Kellogg.” 

“So I have been told,” Preston replied. “The gist of it, anyway. Not a whole lot of the details. Do you want to talk about it?” 

She did, she realized. And not just about Kellogg. All this time wandering about the commonwealth, there had been what felt like a frozen lump wedged in her ribs. She nodded, not sure where to begin. She unloaded everything. She told him about how Church had been more than a soldier. He was her friend. She told him about how she’d fallen asleep and failed Church. How he’d died. The hardest part was telling him about the long, dark freezing night and the wolves coming. Preston listened quietly, at times empathy filling his eyes in a way that made Edun’s heart ache. If anyone understood her pain, it was Preston. She told him about finding Kellogg, and the things he had said before it devolved into a fight for her life. She’d expected to get choked up, but this time the words came easily, as though she’d purged a wound of infection. It felt good and right to share this with Preston.

“I have to find Shaun,” she finished, hands clenching fistfuls of her blanket. “I know he’s not a baby anymore, but...I can’t just leave him to those crazies in the Institute. I have to find a way in, and I have to get him the hell out of there. If I don’t, I’ll have...I’ll have failed Church once again.”

“Well,” Preston soothed, “Your friend Nick might have an idea about that. Why don’t I find him, and he can explain.” She nodded her assent, and Preston rose from his chair and walked out of the house, leaving her. She reached over the side of the bed, feeling around until she found the soft pile of fur.

“Hey, Fluffybutt,” she said, tugging at the dog. “Get up here. You know the rules.” With a sigh any good martyr would envy, Dogmeat rose from his blanket and hopped up onto the bed beside her, nestling in against her side. The movement jostled her and made everything hurt, but she was completely fine with it. She carefully wrapped her arms around the animal, and he nestled into her neck - licking her earlobe a few times and making her squirm before settling down with a huff.

Nick appeared in her doorway not long after, Preston behind him. 

“Kid, that was a hell of a thing you pulled on us,” the Detective chided her. He sat at the foot of her bed, and she scooted her feet out of the way. A sudden, irrational fear came over Edun.

“He’s dead, right? Kellogg is really and truly dead?” 

“Can’t get any more dead than he was when you were done with him,” Nick confirmed, patting her leg. She relaxed, relieved. She’d seen him choking on his own blood, but had passed out before witnessing his actual last breath. “That’s actually what I wanted to discuss with you,” the Detective went on. 

“How do you mean?” 

“I have a feeling this is important,” Nick answered, producing a plastic baggie from one of his many pockets. Inside the bag was a bloody object. It appeared to be some kind of electronic component, surrounded by...tissue. Bloody, meaty looking tissue. She scruched up her nose.

“Nick, what the hell is that?”

“This, my dear, is a piece of the late Kellogg. After things settled down and we got you stabilized, I had a good look at him. Noticed he had more than a few synthetic pieces. Institute tech, implanted into his body. It’s no small wonder he was so formidable. He was more one of their synths than he was a man.” Nick turned the bag over in his fingers, contemplating it.

“Okay, but… what’s the gross thing in the bag?” 

“That, I couldn’t tell you exactly. It was in his brain, so I imagine it’s something pretty important. More important than leg actuators. This tech here...this is the sort of thing I have rattling around in my own brain bucket.”

“What are we supposed to do with a chunk of Kellogg’s brain, and… whatever that is?” She wasn’t sure she saw where this was going.

“There’s really only one person in the commonwealth who would know what to do with it. You haven’t met her yet, but Dr Amari over at the Memory Den in Goodneighbor has the best chance of making sense of this. We should take it to her and see what shakes out.” 

Edun closed her eyes. She wasn’t one for whining, but this wild goose chase had become incredibly draining. All she wanted was a cold beer or two, a break from this endless journey, and for some peace and quiet. She hadn’t had a peaceful moment since that lovely bath at the Hotel Rexford. 

“I need a little time,” she told Nick. “It’s been ten years since they kidnapped Shaun, and... My sense of urgency is somewhat depleted. I need… a break from all this. It’s a lot to absorb.”  _ Step 11. Get A Little Damn R&R Before You Lose Your Damn Mind. _

“Of course, I completely understand.” Nick stood up. “Take all the time you need. I’ll head back to my office. I’ve got a few cases I need to wrap up anyway. Swing by when you’re ready, and we’ll go see Dr Amari.”

“Can you do something for me?” Edun asked.

“Of course,” Nick said, as though surprised she would even doubt his willingness. “What do you need?”

“Take RJ with you. Have him escort you to your office.”

Nick cocked his head at her. “That’s very kind of you, but...I’m pretty handy in a fight, sweetheart. I can handle myself. You don’t need to send an escort with me.” 

“It’s not you I want him to see,” Edun replied with a wink. Nick’s eyebrows rose, and then she saw a knowing smile spread across his face.

“Ah. Of course. You don’t think he’ll be disgruntled about leaving your side?”

“I don’t know why he would be. But I can talk to him.”

“You know,” Nick said, moving to the door, “I didn’t get this dandy little implant by performing brain surgery. We thought you were dead. After you fell, and we saw Kellogg still kicking...well, RJ went a little crazy. Wasn’t much left of Kellogg when the kid was done emptying his magazine into the body. I think maybe watching over you matters a little more than he’s willing to let on.” With that, the Detective left. Edun watched him go, a small smile on her lips. 

“Before I forget… I’ve got some news.” Preston leaned against the door frame and regarded her.

Edun groaned. “Don’t ask me to help another settlement. Not right now.”

He flashed a grin and shook his head. “No, not yet anyway. While you were gone, a huge airship appeared in the sky. The Brotherhood is here...in all its glory. So much for helping them so they’d leave.”

Edun bit her cheek, thoughtful. “We don’t know what it means, really. Or what they want. I’ll look into it, when I’m not so indisposed.”

Preston nodded and then melted away, yielding the room to RJ, who had returned. He plopped back down in the chair, legs stretched out before him. He was almost coltish, his legs a little too long for his short torso. 

“I want you to take Nick back to Diamond City,” Edun told him. “I need to know he is going to make it back safely.” 

RJ rolled his eyes. “That old synth can handle himself.” 

“I’ll give you an extra fifty caps,” Edun offered sincerely. RJ immediately perked up.

“Fifty caps, huh? Deal. If you care that much, it’s your loss.” 

“That’s me. A big, caring softie.” She smiled, and was surprised when he returned it.

“You know, I...have a kid of my own,” RJ confessed. “Had a little wife, too. Back in the Capital Wastes.” 

“I had no idea. You’re a little...restrained with the personal information.”  _ And way too awkward around women to have a kid. _

He shrugged. “Didn’t see a reason to share. But seeing what you’re doing, how hard you’re fighting to get your friend’s son back...I guess I can appreciate that. You’re not half bad, it turns out.”

“Thanks, RJ. you’re pretty okay, too.” She stuck out her tongue, and he chortled.

“So what are you going to do while I’m dragging Nick across the wasteland?”

“I’m going to get very, very drunk. Maybe howl at the moon.” 

RJ looked at her with one brow raised, as though not entirely sure she was joking, before groaning and climbing back out of his chair. “I’m only doing this for the caps, you know. Diamond City is a long walk.”

“So you keep saying. Be safe, RJ.” 

  
  


“Don’t get stabbed while I’m gone.”

  
  


She laughed despite herself, then groaned. 

  
  


-

Two days later, she found herself in the Third Rail again. Magnolia crooned away in her corner, light gleaming off the many-faceted sequins of her gown. Charlie was pleased with the way Edun was throwing caps around, and she was feeling a little glassy-eyed as she nursed her third whiskey. In Charlie’s world, two fingers actually meant four as long as you had a healthy caps stash on you. So far, three different wastelanders had approached her with hope or other less innocent ideas in their eyes, and she’d turned them all away. It wasn’t necessarily that she wasn’t interested, it was more the thought of bedding a complete stranger. She’d never been the type to shake hands and then immediately after shake other parts. Not to mention who knew what kind of things you could catch in this new world. Radioactive Chlamydia, maybe. Perish the thought.

She hadn’t dressed up. While she liked the idea of cutting loose and letting her hair down… so to speak… she didn’t really know these people. She didn’t know anyone. She could count on one hand the number of friends she had in this world. Sure, there were plenty of grateful settlers pressing bundles of fresh corn into her hands as a thank-you for helping them, or traders who now knew her by name and waved to her on the road, but friends? People she knew and could trust? Only a few. Preston, RJ, Nick. Maybe the others who had settled Sanctuary. Codsworth certainly adored her, for whatever reason. She imagined he saw her as some sort of salvation, pulling him from that wrecked house and giving him a renewed purpose. She’d stopped by his flower beds on her way out of Sanctuary, and was amazed to see the tender green shoots from before had grown into sturdy stems with deep lilac buds forming at their tips. Soon, they would bloom into large, leafy hubflowers. They reminded her of poinsettias, with their heavy and pointed leaves. She praised Codsworth and told him his garden was lovely, and he was beside himself with joy over her words.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a fuckin’ dive like this?” A voice whispered by her ear, and Edun jumped before realizing she recognized the voice. A smug little smile on his face, Hancock slid onto the seat beside her. He eyed her glass before observing her too-large eyes and flushed pink face.

“I see Charlie’s been steadily plying you with drink.”

“Oi! She’s been orderin’ ‘em!” The robot protested, overhearing. “I didn’t make ‘er do a damn thing, ‘Ancock. Girl walked in ‘ere spoilin’ for some fun.” 

“Don’t get your panties all bunched up,” the ghoul rolled his eyes. “Just makin’ observations. Slide me over a glass of whatever she’s having, will ya, Charlie?” 

The robot seemed to perk up at the prospect of more caps, and poured the mayor a considerably less generous glass before gliding away to serve some new clients further down the bar.

“Surprised the mayor of Goodneighbor is sitting here in a seedy bar drinking with me,” Edun observed. She was well and truly buzzed, her lips tingling pleasantly and the whiskey settling in her belly like warm embers.

Hancock took a dainty sip, pinky stuck out mockingly. “Come on, sunshine. You’ve seen how I operate. I’m  _ one of the people _ .” 

“Before I forget, that Pickman place you sent me to… Bad business.”

“Oh?” Hancock asked with interest.

“Yeah. Pickman was, uh, killing raiders and using their... _ leftovers _ for his art. Pretty sick shit. Heads everywhere.”

“Damn,” Hancock’s eyes twinkled. “What did you do with him? Kill him?”

“Nah,” Edun said, finishing what was left in her glass and wondering if she’d regret it in the morning. “Figured he was taking out the trash. Left him be. As long as he sticks to raiders...I can live with it.”

Hancock rested his chin on one hand and gazed at her. “How fascinating.” 

“What’s fascinating?” Edun demanded. 

“I didn’t take you to be an eye-for-an-eye sort. Didn’t think you were that kind of girl.”

“With all due respect,,” she pointed out, “You don’t know a damn thing about  _ what kind of girl  _ I am.” She suddenly and quite desperately missed pizza. In the good old days, she’d get rotten drunk and polish off half a pizza after. Hot, cheesy, folded-in-half pizza.  _ Oh, that loss hurt. _

“I’d love to know  _ everything  _ about what kind of girl you are _ , _ ” he said teasingly. Or was he teasing?

“That’s a long novel you’re asking to read,” Edun rolled her eyes. “Sharing thoughts and feelings is boring. What is there to do around this place that’s  _ fun _ ?”

Hancock mulled the question over for a moment. “We could...creep about in the dark and tie all the watchmen’s shoelaces together. First one to get caught is a rotten egg.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, are you twelve?” 

He just stared at her, an impish smirk on his face.  _ Christ, he was serious.  _

And so, that is what they did. Hancock got three, Edun got two, and of course Edun was caught first. They ran down the street, laughing hysterically, as the enraged men tried to chase after them and ate dirt instead. After, they swapped out all the number keys on the registers in the stores before toilet papering two pack brahmin while their owners were getting soused in the Third Rail. All the while, the whiskey kept flowing from Hancock’s personal bottle. By the end of the night, they were both completely drunk and their ribs were aching from the duress of laughter. They crashed about through the old State House, knocking over things and singing loudly. If any of Hancock’s men disapproved, they kept their lips shut. 

“I feel bad about the brahmin,” Edun said through tears as she clutched her stomach. “They just fucking... stared at us the whole time.” She sat on the arm of one of Hancock’s tattered couches, trying to catch her breath.

“Toilet papering the dung piles was a beautiful touch,” Hancock said with a grin, taking a swig from his bottle. It was nearing empty, much to their chagrin. "You're a goddamn artist."

“We’ve pissed off the whole city,” Edun laughed. “What now?”

“What now, indeed,” Hancock answered. There was a strange moment, strained, hanging in the air between them. Hancock looked at Edun, Edun looked at Hancock, and then in a bizarre twist of things they met in the middle. He was kissing her and she kissed back, hard and ferocious. He tasted like 200 year old whiskey and stale cigarettes, and he wound his hands in her hair with the practiced ease of a man who knew exactly what she might want. She was gloriously drunk, her blood singing in her veins and her face hot. She hadn’t felt this good since before Alaska, before everything went to shit. It had been so long since she’d felt hands on her like this. Too long. She moaned against his lips and he tightened his grip in her hair, angling her head back and kissing a burning trail down her neck. 

“Don’t make it weird,” she gasped, wanting to distance herself from the intimacy but feeling as though her body had hopped on a runaway train without her. “Just...fuck me. Now. Please.” 

Hancock wasn’t one to argue in the face of an attractive woman begging for his attentions, and the next few moments was a flailing struggle of two quite drunk individuals struggling out of their clothes while still trying to stick their tongues down each other’s throats. Hancock was surprisingly strong, and instead of opting for the easier option of the couch, he lifted Edun easily and slammed her up against one of the nearest walls. She laughed in delight when one of the paintings crashed to the floor, the frame breaking into three pieces and glass shattering across the faded rug. Hancock paid it no mind, burying his face in her neck while she wrapped her legs around him and held on tightly. Beneath her fingers, she felt the gnarled and bubbled skin of his back.  _ Like me. Like my face was, before the grafts. Like I still imagine myself to be.  _

He wasn’t a stranger, nor was he quite a friend. He was someone she liked and maybe respected, but that was it. She just needed desperately to feel something good for once. She was tired of hurting. As coping mechanisms went, this was a shitty one, but she was past caring.


	16. Like a Consultant, Minus the Fee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edun is the master of workarounds.

The morning after, nursing a headache but otherwise feeling better than she had in weeks, Edun luxuriated in Hancock’s tub. When there was an opportunity for a bath in the wasteland, you took it. They’d woken up, stared at each other across the bed, and started their day off much like they’d ended the previous night. Then he’d told her to make herself at home, showed her where the kitchen was, and left for the day. He claimed he had mayoral duties to attend to, but Edun had a feeling he’d sensed her desire for space and made himself scarce out of respect. She liked his easy going attitude. He rolled with the punches and could somehow read her unspoken mood like a book.

She debated heading to Diamond City to pick up Nick, but couldn’t bring herself to do it yet. She decided instead to make good on her promise to check out the situation with the Brotherhood. Paladin Danse had told her if she changed her mind about joining, she could stop by Cambridge any time. She waited until the water had cooled before relinquishing the tub, pulling the stopper and wrapping a towel about herself. Her stomach grumbled. First thing was breakfast, then she’d worry about Step 12. Step 12: Make Sure the Brotherhood Wasn’t Here To Turn Everyone Into Tin Cans. She downed two bowls of sugar bombs with brahmin milk, surprised at her appetite, and then slipped on a clean pair of jeans and a reasonably clean tee. She buckled on her combat vest and leg guards, shrugged on the Minutemen duster, and then scribbled a quick note to Hancock. She left it on his bedside table, next to several used Jet canisters.  _ Guess we all have our vices.  _ The note simply said  _ Thanks. -E.  _ She didn’t need to say more than that.

She opted to follow a trade caravan out of Boston. The guards were more than happy to have an extra gun free of charge, and Edun was happy to have backup for any mutants she ran into. Fortunately the traders had no idea she was the one who had toilet papered their brahmin, though the animals whuffed at her suspiciously. Dogmeat rejoined her at the gate. He’d wandered off to do his own thing once she and Hancock began their drunken hijinks, a distinctive look of disdain upon his doggy face. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wander off, and she thought back to what Nick had said.  _ We’ve worked together on things before.  _ What the hell had the dog gotten up to in the Commonwealth before finding her? She dropped to her knees when he joined them, and he patiently allowed her to wrap her arms around him and wallow her hands in his thick fur.

“Babybear honeycutie, did you have a good night? Are you hungry?” she said, smooching him all over his face. His ears twitched at the mention of food, and she dug a parcel of jerky from her pack while the caravaneers watched in amusement. In the wasteland, dogs were guards and burglar alarms. The loss of luxury had resulted in dogs becoming more of a utility than companions. Dogmeat, for all his talents, was first and foremost her companion. His presence was calming, soothing. Over time she had learned to pet the dog rather than touch her facial scars when she was under emotional or mental duress. She loved the dog, and she spoiled him absolutely rotten as a result. She’d never have given a dog sticky fruit buns in her pre-war life, but in a world where you were more likely to die from a mirelurk attack than diabetes...who gave a shit, really. She fed Dogmeat pieces of jerky that were small enough for him to chew. Like most dogs, if given the chance he would choke himself to death with gleeful eating. When she was done, she got back to her feet and dusted herself off before nodding that she was ready to go.

She wasn’t exactly sure what her plan was. Though in her heart she was military through-and-through, she was not blind to the fact that such organizations had their flaws. Especially ones that were a trickle-down, like the Brotherhood was. Not a true military, but something else formed in its image. She needed to ferret out just what this Brotherhood organization was about. She’d heard many good things about their presence in the Capital Wastes. Though they’d had much fighting amongst themselves and split factions, they had ultimately brought relative peace to the D.C. area. That was no small thing. According to Hancock, however, who had an inside ear to all the traders passing through Goodneighbor… Their current leader, Elder Maxson, was young, unflappable, and passionate. Not necessarily terrible qualities on their own, but if the dogma was tainted with bias… it could spell serious trouble. They  _ were  _ well-equipped, though, and Edun was itching to get her hands on one of those sets of power armor. She had a suit, of course… the one she’d found in Concord. But that rusted, busted up bucket of bolts was a far cry from the lovely set Danse was wearing. They had the weapons and the armor needed to put action behind words. The Brotherhood was a formidable force, and perhaps they could be of some help in the future. If she found a way into the Institute...she might need them at her back.

They ran into a few super mutants as they passed through the old streets, but it wasn’t anything Edun and the well-seasoned caravan guards couldn’t handle. Edun felt far more confident in her combat abilities the more she practiced, and with some coaching from Preston and RJ, she was steadily improving. She was grateful for her military career keeping her in relatively good shape. This land was hard, demanding, and unforgiving. The soft were the first to die… or worse. The caravan was continuing on to Bunker Hill, and so after crossing the bridge over the Charles River, Edun went West while the caravan headed East. She knew that on this side, at least, she was more likely to run into raiders and ghouls. Super mutants seemed to prefer the downtown area, where they clustered thickly and fell upon anyone who dared to wander down that way. Still, she stayed close to buildings and trees as she traveled. There was no need to draw unnecessary attention or paint a target on herself by walking down the middle of a street with only Dogmeat for company.

She missed Preston’s friendly banter. When she was done with her little recon mission to check out the Brotherhood presence, she’d have to drag him along with her again. Traipsing through the Commonwealth without him felt...empty. Lonely. There was a quality about Preston that centered her. Perhaps it was his warm personality. Maybe it was their shared trauma, and the scars they both carried. When she spoke to him, it was like he felt everything she felt as well as heard the words she spoke. She’d never felt so exposed with anyone, and it wasn’t an uncomfortable sort of exposure. It was a good, cleansing feeling. She felt a guilty twist in her stomach, as though she’d done something wrong. Her dalliance with Hancock had been a relief of stress and tension. A temporary suspension of all the things she had to worry about, all the things that scared her. It had been a welcome relief. So why was she feeling like this now? She’d never been prudish. She firmly believed sexual liberty was an important part of being human. Though once she was in a relationship she was hardcore monogamist all the way... Until her chosen mate decided to break that agreement, anyway. _Looking at you, James._

_ James, you stupid bastard. Even in the end you were selfish, forcing my hand to alleviate your own pain. _ She was furious with him, despite the man being long dead. There was still pity to muddy the water of her thoughts on the matter, but...anger was an easier emotion to identify and deal with. She didn’t like being forced into corners, and that is exactly what he’d done to her. She couldn’t very well stand there and let him shoot RJ, though she was sure RJ would have been more than happy to shoot James first. James had been  _ her _ responsibility. His death was her burden to bear. It would not have been right to put that onus on RJ. 

This was exactly what she hated about traveling alone. Too much time to think on things, too much time to rehash events over and over in your head. It opened the door to  _ What Ifs  _ and  _ Should Haves  _ and  _ If Onlys _ . Time to lean on a different coping mechanism.

“When were you planning on telling me about your adventures with Nick?” she asked Dogmeat. He looked up at her and cocked his head, but didn’t slow his pace. “Friends don’t make secrets, and secrets don’t make friends.” 

Conversation with a dog was, unfortunately, one-sided. She sighed and pressed the button on her radio.

“Preston, are you there?” A moment of silence answered her, then static, before a familiar deep voice came on.

_ “I’m here, Edun. Anything exciting to report? How was your little vacation?”  _

She smiled to herself. “Nothing particularly exciting to report, other than I’m on my way to check out the Brotherhood. Guess we’ll see if they’re allies... or something to worry about... soon. As for the ‘vacation’... I’m still terribly hungover.”

_ “You could take some Med-X for that, you know.”  _ His tone was concerned, but amused.

“You know I don't take that shit. Besides, I prefer to suffer. It’s a nice reminder that I am too old for that much whiskey.”

_ “Yes. So terribly old. Practically one foot in the grave.”  _

“You want to hear something funny?” She asked, realizing something. She checked the date on her pip boy to be sure.

_ “What’s that?” _

“Yesterday was my birthday. I missed it. I really am old.” She laughed, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice.

_ “Hey, that’s something,” _ Preston said warmly.  _ “Happy birthday, belatedly. What do you want for your birthday?”  _

“Besides a giant bowl of fresh-churned ice cream… Not a whole lot. Honestly, I just called because I...needed to hear a friendly voice. I have a long walk ahead of me and I don’t want to do it alone.”

_ “Want to hear about the time I trained a radroach to do tricks?” _

“You  _ know  _ I do.”

  
  


-

  
  


Danse looked up from logging something on his terminal with his brows furrowed. The station was busy with activity. A vertibird was on the roof, and soldiers were coming and going with supply crates. They’d beefed up the perimeter fence as well, and stationed more sentries. High up in the sky, an enormous airship hovered over the Boston Airport. When the Paladin recognized Edun, he rose and stepped out from behind the desk. Even without his power armor, Danse was a formidable man. He was 6’4” at least, with enormous arms and shoulders. He was damn near a super mutant in size. He wore full combat fatigues, with a Brotherhood logo emblazoned across his chest plate. 

“Edun of the Minutemen,” he said in his polite but somehow sardonic tone. No doubt he still thought her militia was a bunch of farmers armed with pitchforks. He held out a hand in greeting, and she took it. “Have you considered my offer?” 

“I was actually thinking we could talk about that,” Edun winced at the strength in his grip. He was going to pulp her fingers, the big ape.

Danse raised an eyebrow, but stepped around her to close the door at her back. He returned to his desk and sat down, hands folded casually in his lap. “I take it you have some reservations.”

“It’s not that the offer isn’t tempting,” Edun hedged, sitting in the chair across from him. “I’m just not sure about how you people operate yet. Or if our… _viewpoints_ are aligned. I’d like to know more. If possible, I’d like to observe you guys in action before I make a hasty commitment I might not be willing to keep.”

She saw the lines of his mouth draw down in disapproval. “There is no room for being wishy-washy in our ranks. The Brotherhood is the Commonwealth’s best chance at peace and safety. We are here to help.”

“I’m not disputing that,” Edun said carefully. “What I am suggesting is perhaps… an arrangement that works for both me and your organization. Say I help you out here and there as needed, and you guys help me reach the Institute.”

“You want to work as a mercenary in our service?” The lines of disapproval deepened.

“No, not like a mercenary. Like a consultant...Minus the fee.”

“You want to work for us… but for _free_?” He looked somewhat incredulous.

“Well, it would be in exchange for something. I help you now, you help me later if I need it.” She could see him mulling it over. He steepled his fingers and brought his hands up, thumbs pressing into his lower lip for a moment.

“I don’t know how Elder Maxson will feel about this. It is something we will have to discuss with him. Letting a stranger into our midst is not something he will take lightly. The Brotherhood has many secrets and access to much tech that we strive to keep from enemy hands. Letting you into our ranks without the surety of your loyalty will be seen as risky, despite my faith in your abilities. Your abilities are not the concern here, as it were. Your motivations are.”

“Ask around about me,” Edun replied with a shrug. “I’m not some raider on a murderous rampage. I’m just trying to make things around here a little better. From everything I know about your people, we share that goal.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. “I have a vertibird waiting on the roof. We are due back to the Prydwen for the Elder’s address. Join me. Hear what he has to say, and then you can discuss our...mutual goals.”

Edun couldn’t help herself. “A vertibird, huh? Can I fly it? It’s been a while.” She grinned at him.

“You can fly a vertibird?” Danse looked dubious.

“I was a pilot before I was a popsicle,” she said with a wink. 

“Interesting. I suppose that talent is another point in your favor. But no, you may not fly the vertibird.” He observed her look of disappointment and amended, “If you’d like, you can man the minigun.”

Her clap and shout of glee startled him. He was clearly unused to such improper exaltations, but Edun saw a glimmer of amusement in the line of his lips. She had a suspicion that under the ironclad soldier image, there was a man with a sense of humor. She’d have to talk him into a beer sometime.

He stepped back into his power armor before leading her up to the roof. The vertibird began to spin up as soon as they emerged on the roof, and Edun had to shield her eyes from the winds the rotors kicked up. She missed her flight suit. She missed Mac. Hell, she missed  _ flying. _ Seeing the bird looming over her, climbing into the cabin and feeling the corrugated metal under her boots again… it brought back a mix of both good and bad memories. That night in Alaska was always at the periphery of her thoughts, a dark shape demanding she give it form. She would not. Not now. She wasn’t about to show the Paladin any of the cracks in her personal armor. She took hold of the minigun, and felt the vertibird shift under the weight of Danse’s power armor as he climbed aboard after her. Dogmeat leaped up behind Danse and nestled into a corner. She was half worried the dog would fall out, but he seemed sensible enough to find solid footing. Danse gave her an approving nod, seeing her comfort and familiarity in the bird, and gave the wall to the cockpit two quick raps with his fist. The vertibird lifted off, swaying for a moment before stabilizing, and then they were off. Tears pricked at Edun’s eyes, brought on by the crisp currents of air whipping about her rather than any emotion. She felt giddy to be on a bird again, and the view from up here was exhilarating. The soldiers milling about Cambridge shrank away until they were ants moving about a tiny building. 

“Don’t get too trigger happy,” Danse yelled over the wind. “I don’t want any reports of civilians coming to harm.” 

“Danse, I told you, I’m a professional.” She gave him a thumbs up, before turning back to the gun. As they swept over Boston, Danse filled her in more.

“We plan to take the Institute on. You’ve seen their synths, and heard your share of rumors by now. They’ve proven to be technologically superior, which means there’s no telling what types of weapons they might have in their arsenal. Our hope is that our air superiority and tactical experience will make the difference.”

Edun interrupted him for a moment to open fire on raiders swarming below. They were firing at the bird, but at this range their bullets were of little use. They weren’t even reaching the craft. The raiders the gun didn’t get were finished by the ensuing explosion of an old car that caught fire, the old nuclear-powered engine bursting into a fiery ball of heat and shrapnel. Edun laid off the trigger and watched the red barrels cool.

“The real trick will be finding the Institute,” Danse continued. “Our investigations have not told us much. There does not seem to be any route directly to them. We aren’t even sure  _ where  _ they are. But I am sure Elder Maxson will have a plan in place already.”

“You think highly of your leader,” Edun commented.  _ More than likely, he’s just a man who walks like he’s got more in his pants than everyone else. Typical brass. _

“He is the greatest Elder the Brotherhood has ever seen,” Danse answered seriously. “I wish more people believed in our cause down there, but they’ve been blinded by rumors and misinformation.”

“What sort of things do they disagree with?” Edun shifted so she could look Danse in the eyes. He met her gaze, unflinching.

“They do not understand our reasons for commandeering dangerous technology, or for our desire to give all warped and twisted creatures the peace they deserve.”  _ Now just what the hell was that supposed to mean? _

“Creatures like what? Deathclaws?”

Danse’s suit clanked, in what Edun realized was a shrug. “Deathclaws, yes, on a baser level. They are certainly a danger to others. Rad scorpions, yao guai, of course. But they are animals. Super mutants and ghouls are a much greater threat.”

“Feral ghouls?” Edun didn’t like where this was going.

“All ghouls,” Danse replied firmly. “Their minds are not their own. At any time, a ghoul could change and become feral. They are dangerous because they are among us. Accepted as human. Tell me, Edun...What would happen if a ghoul working as a schoolteacher lost their mind and turned on the students? Is that a risk you deem acceptable?”

“I don’t deem murdering any innocent sentient being acceptable.”

“You’ve fought in a war. You know as well as I do that innocents can get caught in the middle. Children of farmers made to carry guns for the enemy are no less dangerous for it. This is no different.”

“Like  _ hell _ it isn’t different.” She was clenching her jaw, hard.

“You are new to this world. There is much for you to learn and see still. You will realize the truth of my words someday.”

She didn’t speak again for the rest of the trip. She was starting to feel pretty damn validated in her suspicions. The enormous Prydwen loomed closer, and shortly after she felt the docking clamps latch on to their bird. She hopped out first, Dogmeat at her heels, and waited for Danse to maneuver his heavy frame out onto the platform as well. He introduced her to Captain Kells - a sharp, concise man who eyed her with more than a small amount of frigid disapproval. She found it somewhat amusing that her long blue duster was more offensive to these people than the scars decorating the left side of her face. After his cool greeting and a few questions, Kells directed her and Danse to the command deck for Elder Maxson’s big address. Elder Maxson was just getting started as they made their entrance.

“...Brothers and sisters, our path has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth…” The famed Elder Maxson looked young. A few years younger than her, at least. He was large, commanding, his hair neatly combed to the side and the neckline came down to a close fade. He must have a better barber than what could be found in the Commonwealth, she mused. He was nearly as tall as Paladin Danse, with wide shoulders beneath a thick leather coat that fell to mid-calf. His eyes flicked towards her as she entered, but he did not pause or stumble. The others did not so much as glance in her direction. They were fixated on their leader. Good. She already felt a bit like a valedictorian delivering her speech in the nude. She listened as Maxson went on.

“You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction, and most impressively…without question.”  _ That’s kind of a weird compliment. ‘Thanks for not questioning me or my reasoning behind dragging all of you out to Boston.’  _ Edun frowned to herself. If she was being honest, there wasn’t much less expectation of her when she served. Orders were orders. You did as you were told and trusted your commanding officers. She looked at the faces around the room. Danse stared at his leader with an intensity that might have seemed odd, if it weren’t reflected in the expressions of everyone else in the room. There was a resounding ambience of fanaticism here. She shifted uncomfortably, letting her fingers graze the top of Dogmeat’s head. He raised his nose and licked between her fingers, resulting in her having to stifle a giggle at the tickling sensation. 

Maxson was now comparing the Institute to cancer, insisting it must be cut out. From what Edun had seen, she was inclined to agree. However, she’d never been one to jump to conclusions. She preferred to see the whole picture before making snap judgements.

“...Institute scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb,” Maxson said, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind him. “They call their creation…  _ the synth.  _ It is a robotic abomination of technology, free-thinking and masquerading as a human. This... _ notion  _ that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive but horribly dangerous. Like the atom bomb, if it isn’t harnessed properly it has the potential to render us extinct as a species.”

Edun thought of Nick, with all his human reflections and affectations. He was good and kind. He helped people. He’d helped her. He was her  _ friend _ . He could not be the only one of his kind. There were surely more synths out there. The Broken Mask incident had proven they could be undetectable. For all she knew, she’d met more than a few in her travels without even knowing it. She might not know a whole lot about the Institute, or this world in general...but she wasn’t sure she agreed with Maxson on his assertions that everyone and everything in the Institute must be destroyed.

His speech eventually wound to a close, and then Maxson dismissed the gathered crewmen and women. Edun was alone in the room with him.  _ Awkward. _

“So, you’re the woman Danse is trying so hard to recruit.” Maxson looked at her questioningly, and she was reminded of a bird of prey. His eyes were piercing and observant. In her head, she shuffled her valedictorian’s speech nervously. Step 12 was now: Don’t Piss Off the Large Angry Man and Get Tossed Off His Ship, Ass Over Tin Cup. Keep it cool. Keep it restrained.

“You know about me?” She asked, somewhat surprised.

“Of course. He discussed you in length during his report on the findings within ArcJect Systems. It would seem we have you to thank, in some part, for bringing us here.  _ Preston would never let her live this down. _ “Which brings me to our next subject. Danse told me he invited you to join the Brotherhood, but you declined at the time. He said you expressed a desire to consider the offer. The Brotherhood does not often invite insiders such as yourself into the fold. I am surprised at your disinclination.” 

_ Straight into the interrogation, then.  _ “Well, I didn’t make it this far in life without looking before leaping,” she answered cautiously. “I didn’t know much about your people, or you. Asking me to join an organization I just met is a tall order. I haven’t been out of the vault long. There are a lot of blanks I need to fill, first.” 

“A fair point,” Maxson answered. He leaned against the handrail running the length of the wall and folded his arms, observing her. “If you don’t want to join us, then why are you here?”

“We have a common goal,” Edun explained, hands spread. “I want into the Institute.  _ You _ want into the Institute. Seems like we have an opportunity here to help each other out.”

“What is it you think you can offer us that we don’t already have?” Maxson’s words were harsh, but his tone was simply questioning.

“For starters, I’ve got a lead on the Institute. A few days ago, I killed one of their best agents. He had something on him that likely holds more than a few of their secrets. It’s more than any of you have gathered, I’d wager.” 

Maxson allowed a smile, his gaze flinty. “I see.” He was quiet for a long moment, no doubt mulling things over. At last, he spoke. “I don’t like strangers on my ship or among my crew, but Paladin Danse has spoken very highly of you. As one of my best officers, that endorsement goes a long way with me. For now, I will let the issue of your enlistment rest. You may act as a consultant for the time being, but when it gets down to the wire...you will have to make a decision. If you are not with us, then my concern is you will be against us when the time for battle comes.”

“Works for me. All I ask for is time to make a proper decision, without wasting any.”

Maxson turned away from her, looking out the large glass observation windows. “You are dismissed. Paladin Danse can brief you on anything he may need assistance with. Until the situation changes, he will be responsible for you. And...your actions.” The last words were a warning.  _ Fuck up, and Danse will be the one in trouble.  _

She exited the command deck, and after asking someone for directions, made her way to the mess hall where Paladin Danse was chatting with another suited up soldier. He saw her working her way through the crowd towards him, and cut his conversation short.

“How did it go?” He asked, somewhat pensively.

“I’m in, I guess. As in as I can be. He’s agreed to my terms. Told me to check in with you and see if there was anything you needed me to take care of.”

“Outstanding news,” Danse said. He looked as though he might clap her on the shoulder, but reconsidered it. She was relieved. Those steel gauntlets were no joke. She’d end up wine. “You have made a wise choice, siding with the Brotherhood. I only hope that in time you will see how much more we have to offer, should you choose to join in an official capacity. Now, as for things I could use your help with...I do have one request.”

He proceeded to explain how three years prior, a patrol had been sent to the Commonwealth and disappeared. Danse had done his best to search for the lost soldiers, but with few resources and his team dwindling, it was beyond his capabilities. Edun promised that she would do her best to locate the missing men and women. As much as she traveled through the Commonwealth, she suspected finding them would have been an eventuality anyway. 

Danse gave her a tour of the Prydwen, introducing her to key people and being surprisingly chatty about how  _ amazing  _ everything Brotherhood was. She felt many eyes on her as they moved about the ship - some interested, some disapproving, some disinterested. She often forgot what a novelty she was. Everything about her was distinctly different from other residents of the wasteland. She was taller, sturdier, and cleaner than the standard fare was. Less scarred, not as much. In that, at least, she had a lot in common with the other denizens of the ‘wealth.

“It’s been a long day for you,” Danse observed, looking her over. No doubt she looked like a tired, dusty, road-weary mess. He wasn’t wrong. Her feet were killing her. Her leather boots might be sturdy, but well-cushioned they were not. “If you’d like, we have a spare bunk or two. Grab a bite with me and then catch some shut-eye. I can’t have the Brotherhood’s official... _ Consultant _ ...staggering out into the wasteland dead-tired and hungry. A vertibird can take you home in the morning.”

“That actually sounds pretty damn good to me. You’re a real pal, Danse.” She extended her hand for a fist bump, and he turned a somewhat reproachful but amused eye on her before turning and heading down the corridor.  _ Oh well. Fist bumps weren’t for everyone. _


	17. Flight Suits and Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless fluff mingled with pain.  
> ___________

Edun had the vertibird drop her off outside of Sanctuary the following evening. She’d spent the better part of the day hunting for a distress beacon, and finally located it in a destroyed home near the old Med-Tek building. One down, two to go. Danse had been deeply saddened to hear the recording; the team fighting and dying on the holotape she’d found. She knew from his own team losses in the Commonwealth that it hit him a little too close to home. She’d left him to his thoughts with the promise of finding the others when she had time. For now, she wanted to rest and she wanted to see her people again. Maybe take a bath...in the cold damn creek. The bones of the others soldiers would continue to rest until later.

She hopped down, signaled a peace sign to the pilot - A woman named Jane, delightful creature - and strode off in the direction of home. She’d expected Preston to greet her as was customary. She’d radioed ahead. Despite the warning, there was nobody by the gate. Sturges wasn’t outside hammering away at some new project on his work table. Mama wasn’t resting on the porch in her favorite new chair. Dread washed over Edun as she quickened her pace and craned her neck, looking for her people. There was nobody here. Sanctuary was as much a ghost town as it had been her first day in the Commonwealth. Her first thought was raiders. Perhaps the few left alive in Concord to run for the hills had come back, enacting revenge on the group that bested them. She hoped not. If anything happened to her friends, she didn’t know  _ what _ she would do. She realized she was clenching her fists, nails digging crescents into her palms. She passed the communal cooking pit, and saw the coals within were cold save for a few embers. Whatever had happened, she’d just missed it by a few hours.

Her mouth was dry as she crossed through the yards of dried grass and miserable shrubs to the old Church house. It was empty. Not even Codsworth had been spared. Fighting panic, tears threatening to fall, she took a deep breath. Dogmeat whined at her, sensing her distress and worried about her. She needed to reload, grab a few weapons, restock her grenade belt, and then she was going to find whoever the fuck had dared invade her home and harm her people. She kept a full arsenal in the spare bedroom of her house, and she marched in that direction. Fear gave way to anger, and she fed into it. She let it churn in her stomach, fuel for the fight that likely lay in store for her. The best solution was to give Dogmeat something to sniff. Maybe an item of Mama’s or Preston’s. Dogmeat had more than proved his ability to track. She was infinitely grateful for the fact he’d been with her, and not left at Sanctuary. She’d  _ almost  _ left him to help guard the settlement, but couldn’t bear to be apart from him and took him to Goodneighbor with her instead.

She kicked her front door open, not caring about the latch tearing a slot through the frame beneath the force of her boot. 

_ “SURPRISE!!!”  _ roared a dozen voices at once, and there was a loud  _ pop _ . Edun reacted on pure instinct, dropping to the floor and rolling in order to use the couch for cover. She pointed her handgun in the direction of movement and was struggling to control her breathing when she heard Mama Murphy’s voice.

“Dang it, Preston, I  _ told you  _ we’d scare the hell out of her doing this.” Heart in her throat, Edun lowered the .44 and saw a cluster of anxious faces gathered around the island counter of her kitchen. She just stared, only half comprehending what had just happened, and Dogmeat began to lick her face in earnest. 

“We thought we would...surprise you,” Preston looked terribly guilty and sheepish. “You told me how you missed your birthday, and I thought…” He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand and trailed off. Edun looked at each of their faces in turn, her mouth still hanging slightly open, before throwing her head back and laughing uproariously. 

“Jesus Christ, you guys are  _ completely fucking crackers _ . You don’t go and surprise a girl in a post-nuclear wasteland. That’s just begging to get shot,” she said through tears as she dissolved into mirth. The tension left the room, and Preston began to laugh too. Sturges slapped his thighs and guffawed, and before long the entire group was in stitches. Preston walked around the counter and over to Edun, offering her a hand up and nearly toppling over himself as he pulled her upright. 

“Remind me to never tell anyone when my birthday is again,” Edun croaked, leaning against the island counter as Sturges patted her on the back. “I’m officially too old for this level of heart attack.”

“Hell, boss, if we’d known what a safety hazard it would be, we’d all have put on power armor,” Sturges said mildly.

“I  _ told  _ them not to do it,” Mama sniffed primly. “They never listen.” 

“Well, I certainly cautioned them against such a thing as well,” Codsworth interjected. “I never understood human beings and their need for…  _ surprises. _ ” 

Marcy and Jun were there as well, surprisingly, and for the first time since she’d met them, Edun saw they looked a little less beaten down. Marcy even gave Edun a tentative smile. Progress, at least. There were a handful of settlers who had joined them over the last few weeks as well. Edun struggled to remember their names. Jake, Amelia, something something… ah, bugger it all. She wasn’t around enough.

“If your heart rate has sufficiently recovered, mum, we  _ do  _ have some surprises of a less... _ terrifying _ ... nature for you,” the robot added.

“But first thing’s first,” Sturges said firmly, providing a large bottle of champagne.  _ That has been the pop she heard. It was a fucking cork, not a gun shot.  _ Edun groaned at the sight of it, and Preston chuckled as he produced a motley collection of glassware from her cabinets.

“I can’t attest to the quality of it,” he cautioned, setting a glass in front of her and moving so Sturges could pour. “Vadim made it in that  _ distillery  _ setup of his. Could be terrible. Could be okay. I’m told it’s supposed to have hints of strawberry to it. Wherever the hell he found anything remotely strawberry, I couldn’t say.”

“If your surprise didn’t kill me, this might, then. That’s what you’re saying?” Edun grinned and brought the glass to her lips. To her surprise, the champagne wasn’t bad at all. There was definitely a flavor to it. She closed her eyes and mulled it over her tongue, puzzling it out, while Sturges poured glasses for the others. A lightbulb went off in her head, and she opened her eyes. Everyone was staring, waiting for the conclusion.

“Bubblegum,” she announced. Jun grimaced in horror and Preston rolled his eyes.

“He swore the pink hue was because of strawberries!”

“Kid, I’ve lived a whole lot longer than you, and I’ve never seen a strawberry in the wasteland,” Mama laughed.

Codsworth disappeared for a moment, and when he returned he held two bundles wrapped in what appeared to be a patchwork of available paper. Edun raised her eyebrows and looked at Preston suspiciously.

“It wouldn’t be a birthday without presents,” Preston shrugged.

The first package was smaller, rounded. She guessed it was some sort of booze, looking at it. She peeled away the paper and was stunned to see it was a bottle of bubble bath. Her mouth dropped open.

“We were spitballing ideas, and I mentioned you were kind of… obsessed with hot baths,” Preston explained. 

“Bought that off a trader some time ago,” Mama explained. “Never did find a place with plumbing, though.”

“Which brings us to  _ my  _ part of it,” Sturges said. “Thanks to the generator parts you found for me, we’ve got power. I hooked up your boiler yesterday. You've got hot water and a working bathroom.” He gave her a wink, and she oohed with delight.

“Open the next one,” Preston demanded, impatient.

Edun tore into the paper on the second gift, and as she ran her hands over the precious item she found herself speechless. The fabric was cool and sleek beneath her fingers, and as she pulled the garment from its wrapping she knew it would fit her exactly right. The black and green fire-resistant weave of the flight suit shone in the dim light of oil lamps. There was more to it, now, though. It was heavier than the standard issue. Seeing her take notice of it, Sturges explained.

“We found that pretty little thing in the National Guard center out by Country Crossing. Wasn’t exactly intentional. We were there huntin’ for some parts for the turrets, and...well, it was worth fighting through all the ghouls, turns out. Darn thing was tucked away in a storage chest in the back of that downed vertibird. We didn’t want you gettin’ tore up by raiders, though, so we uh… Made some additions. Added some kevlar plates to it. We were plannin’ on giving it to you, no big deal, but then you had a birthday.” 

“Damn, you guys...I don’t know what to say. I’m not often speechless, but you got me good.  _ Thank you _ .” There was a lump in her throat. She hadn’t expected this. She didn’t think any of them cared  _ this  _ much about her, but it was clear from the effort they’d made and the looks on their faces that they did. A hell of a lot more than she’d anticipated.

“I do wish we’d had time to find you a cake,” moaned Codsworth. “Flour is ever so hard to find in this wretched Commonwealth.”

“Well,” said Marcy, plunking a bottle down on the counter, “We’ve got plenty of whiskey from that crazy coot’s bunker. And of course, bubblegum champagne.” Behind her, Jun made a horrified noise. 

Edun raised her glass. “Here’s to my first birthday in the Commonwealth, and hoping something doesn’t eat me before the next one.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Mama said, raising her glass.

“To your birthday, and not getting eaten,” Preston’s eyes twinkled.

  
  
  


A couple hours later, everyone had wandered off in pursuit of food or sleep. Preston remained, and while Edun munched on fistfuls of dry Sugar Bombs she filled him in on how her visit to the Prydwen went. They were both tipsy, but not overly so. The others drank with far more enthusiasm, but Edun had learned her lesson from the river of whiskey a few days prior.

“I don’t know, Preston,” she said as she pulled another handful of cereal from the box, sprinkling a few of the sugary nuggets on the floor for Dogmeat. “Maxson doesn’t  _ seem  _ like an unhinged loony, but he’s definitely got some...violent tendencies when it comes to synths and ghouls. They all do. I think maybe we can trust them as far as we can throw them.” 

“So what are you going to do?” Preston asked, leaning back into the couch and looking a little glassy.

“Handle them very, very carefully. At least they’re off my back about the whole enlisting thing. For now. Don’t imagine I can do much good if I have to follow a bunch of their orders. Shit, they’d probably order me to shoot Nick on sight.” 

“Even if you enlisted, that’s not an order you’d ever follow,” Preston asserted.

“Definitely fuckin’ wouldn’t. But that’s not the point.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why do I feel like I maybe bit off more than I can chew here? Like I’m trying to hold back an elephant at the end of a leash? Ah, well. Too late to go back now. I need to finish finding their missing patrol tomorrow. Might as well get it over with.” 

“Do you want company?” Preston asked, smiling softly. 

“Oh, you thought that was optional?” She raised an eyebrow. Then, softer, “It’s lonely out there without you. Ah, guarding my back,” she added awkwardly.

Preston looked at her for a long moment before rising to his feet. “I suppose I should let you get some sleep, if we’re going to be traveling tomorrow.”

She followed him to the door, but before he could open it she stopped him with a hand against the wood.

“Thank you for today,” she said in a low voice. “I know I said thanks earlier, but… Thank you, especially and specifically. I know this was all your doing.”

“You deserve it,” he said simply. “And more. You’ve done more for us than anyone else ever has, or for that matter  _ would.  _ You’re a good woman, Edun.”

Edun stared up at him, chin angled to meet his eyes, and felt a little like her bones were turning to jelly right about then. As though sensing something in her, Preston leaned down and kissed her softly. It might as well have been the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, so quick and light it was. It completely surprised her, and her hand automatically flew to her stomach. The rest of the butterflies were in there, beating their wings furiously.

“Good night, Edun,” he said gently. He opened the now-freed door and stepped out into the night, leaving her standing in her doorway. She watched him disappear down the street with her fingers to her lips, touching them gently as though to preserve the memory.

-

  
  


“What do you suppose the rest of the world is like now?” Edun asked as they followed the faint signal her pip boy had locked on to. It was a thought she couldn’t get out of her head after the last round of feral ghouls. It had been a family, or...what remained of one. The two small, snarling ghouls accompanying the larger ones had deeply unsettled her.

“I couldn’t say,” Preston replied. “I’ve spent my whole life in the Commonwealth. I hear stories, sometimes. Bits of news from the Capital waste, some tidbits from New Vegas. Many of the major cities of the US were pretty obliterated, if the braver trade caravans and mercenaries are to be trusted.” 

“Seven billion people,” Edun whispered.

“What’s that?” Preston asked, not quite catching her words.

Edun cleared her throat. “The last population estimate, before the bombs fell. Seven billion people inhabited the earth. I wonder how many are left.”

“Maybe more than you might think. Humans tend to make it a habit of being resilient.” He was being hopeful for her benefit, she knew.

“You know what I’d like to do, once we’ve better established ourselves? I want to set up a route for messengers. Maybe like the pony express of old, but… no horses, unfortunately. If we built a network of outposts and trained and paid couriers… we could bring news back to the country.”

Preston was staring at her. “That’s...Not a bad idea. Might be a tall order, though. You’d be asking people to put themselves at the mercy of the wasteland. It would be a risky job.”

“I’d do it, too. I wouldn’t ask anyone to do something I won’t do myself.” 

He shook his head. “You can’t go running off just yet, missy. You’re the General of the Minutemen, remember?” 

“For now,” she said with a toss of her hair. She had every intention of dumping the role back into Preston’s lap once he had rebuilt his self-confidence. “Last one to the satellite relay is a rotten egg,” and with that, she took off at a mad dash. Dogmeat loped along beside her as though it were a simple morning stroll and she wasn’t actually pushing herself as hard as she possibly could. Damn dog always had to make everything look easy. Preston, though considerably longer of limb, was a lot heavier and more muscled than her, and she won on the long distance dashes. She stopped at a stand of trees and shrubs, laughing, a stitch in her side, and waited for him to catch up. 

“Great...Dodge...of topic…” Preston panted, hands on his knees. “What are we...Dealing with here?”

Edun pulled her binoculars from her pack and raised them to her eyes, hissing in alarm once she focused in on the area surrounding the enormous satellite dishes. 

“Super mutants. A lot of them.” 

“Shit,” Preston swore. “You’re sure the signal is coming from in there?” 

“Absolutely positive. According to my pip boy, it’s in the middle of that complex.”

“How badly do you need to be in the Brotherhood’s good graces? Really?” Preston grimaced. “Good thing I came with you. Knowing you, you’d just barge in there alone.” 

“I have a secret weapon the muties would never be able to withstand.” 

Preston looked at her, surprised. “What?”

“I know karate.” Edun kept the binoculars off and struggled desperately to maintain her poker face. She could feel Preston’s suspicious glower.

“Ugh, you do not,” he decided at last. “Seriously, how do you want to play this?”

“Well,” she chewed on her lip thoughtfully, “I figure we take out as many as we can from a distance, and then maybe switch to something that will deal a lot more damage up close. Shotguns and slugs? There’s only six of them, how bad can it be?” 

“ _ Only  _ six, she says,” Preston groaned as he unslung his laser rifle. “Fighting one mutant is a lot like fighting three grown men. But that plan is as good as any. Ready?” 

“Ready.”

They managed to take out two of the mutants before the rest oriented on their location. The remaining four opened fire with all the typical rage and mindlessness of mutants, and under heavy fire, Edun and Preston made a run for the relay. At least amongst the dishes there would be cover. Preston went for a mutant at the top of one of the long stairways, and Edun was doing her best to provide cover fire when one of the mutants came at her with an enormous club and pulled her attention away. She only just managed to duck the first blow. It appeared to be a metal pipe with a chunk of concrete still attached to it. The concrete had been wrapped around and around with spikes and rusted barbed wire, and made a deadly but ponderous weapon. Even with his great strength behind the swings, the mutant was slow and Edun was able to dodge. The trouble was dodging took all her focus, and getting a shot in around all the ducking and weaving was proving to be harder than she thought. She danced around a burned out military truck and winced as the club smashed into the hood, leaving an incredible dent in the steel.  _ If I’m not careful, I’m going to be strawberry jam all over the ground.  _

She heard a snarl, and then the mutant pursuing her let out an angry bellow and shook one thick trunk-like leg. Dogmeat released the mutant’s ankle and darted out of reach, grinning in that way he had. The mutant bellowed a second time and swung his club at Dogmeat, once again too slow. Dogmeat easily bounded out of reach. The distraction was exactly what Edun needed, and she fired three slugs into the mutant’s back. He half-turned, his green face twisted in rage, before falling. 

“Who’s the bestest and sweetest mutie killer in the whole world?” She crooned at the dog, stopping to pat his head before looking around to see where Preston had gone. It was quiet, so she guessed he’d gotten the mutant hiding up at the top. 

“Preston?” She called, taking the stairs up two at a time. She found him at the top, knelt down beside a skeleton wearing what remained of Brotherhood fatigues.

“I think I found your missing soldier,” Preston gestured at the bones. “I found the distress beacon, and this.” He handed her a holo tape. She turned it over in her hand. Below them, the yelp of an animal in pain tore through the stillness.

“Dogmeat!” Edun all but screamed, dropping the holo tape and running to the railing. The mutant she’d shot three times was still moving. He had his arms wrapped tightly around Dogmeat, his teeth bared as he squeezed the dog. How she made it to the bottom again without first breaking a leg, she didn’t know. She just ran, her heart seized with panic, jumping and sliding and stumbling down the stairs and across the ground towards the mutant and her dog.

“Let him go!” She howled, firing her shotgun into the mutant’s face over and over again until it clicked empty. At some point, likely after the first point-blank round, the mutant had released his grip and his arms had relaxed, freeing Dogmeat. The dog let out a whine, trying to crawl to her, clearly in terrible pain. She threw her shotgun to the side and fell to her knees, afraid to touch him and hurt him more but attempting a cursory examination with careful fingers nonetheless. Preston was right behind her, sliding to a halt at her back. She was sobbing, horrified that she’d let Dogmeat get hurt. His fur was bloody, and she couldn’t tell if it was his or super mutant’s blood. 

“I should have made sure it was dead,” she cried, hands gently prodding and feeling for anything broken. Dogmeat was panting, his eyes looking glazed, and his usual good humor was gone from his brown eyes. 

“Edun,” Preston said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s my fault, my fault, he’s going to die because of me,” she knew in her heart that her past and present were mingling, old pain joining with new to create a fresh terror, but she couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t help it. Dogmeat was  _ everything  _ to her _. Pet the dog. Pet the dog. Just pet the dog and it will be okay. _ She stroked him, tears falling and splashing on his fur.

“Edun,” Preston said again, more firmly. “You can use a stimpack on him. That should stabilize him until we can get him home and have Sturges take a look.” 

“You can...use them on a dog?” She asked, shocked. She sprang into action, yanking her pack from her shoulders and digging through it until she found the stimpack. Muttering an apology to the pained animal, she injected the stim. Minutes passed and she waited, hands bloody, still clutching the empty syringe. She couldn’t breathe. She watched the stim slowly take effect, the fear and pain leaving Dogmeat’s expressive eyes. He relaxed and stopped whimpering and twitching, and after perhaps ten minutes he even attempted to lick her knee through her torn jeans. At that, she burst out sobbing again, and this time Preston got down in the dirt with her and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back and assuring her that her dog would be just fine. 

When they felt sure it would be okay to move Dogmeat again, Preston carefully wrapped his arms around the large dog and lifted him easily. Edun found herself suddenly very grateful for Preston’s size, as carrying Dogmeat all the way back to Sanctuary would have been one hell of a struggle for her. Before they left, Edun ran back up the stairs and grabbed the  _ goddamn _ holotape again lest she have to come all the way back here, and they set off towards home. Preston kept up a brisk pace, and Edun at times had to jog to keep up with him. When they at last reached Sanctuary Hills again, Mama Murphy saw them coming and sounded out the alarm. 

Sturges, though painfully modest at times, was good at fixing all manner of things. Edun and Preston hovered anxiously while he set the dog’s broken leg and examined the rest of the animal for injuries.

“Well,” Sturges said at last, “He’s got a broken leg and a few fractured ribs, maybe some bruising, but otherwise I reckon he’ll be just fine. He’ll need a couple days for that stim to run its course and for the bones to knit proper. Can’t be feelin’ too terrible, he stole the snack cakes right out of my pocket when my back was turned.”

Sturges punctuated this with a reproving look at Dogmeat, who licked his chops in defiance at the memory of the delicious confection.  Edun waited until Sturges had left them to slip the dog a few bites of jerky, which he gobbled up like he was half-starved.

“You’re going to make that dog terribly fat,” Preston said with disapproval, but it was a mild sentiment.

“How dare you,” Edun protested, planting kisses on Dogmeat’s cheek. “He’s not fat, he’s fluffy.” 

They left Dogmeat to rest. Edun, still far too stirred up from the day, went to a favorite spot of hers. She liked to sit on the old bridge and dangle her legs off the damaged side, watching the murky emerald water of the river flow beneath her. It was quiet here, and she did her best thinking while staring off into the distance. Preston must have seen her making her journey, for he joined her a few minutes later. She was quiet as he lowered himself to the old wooden planks, scooting close to the ledge and letting his legs dangle off as well. They sat there companionably for some time, before Edun said “Why did you--” right as Preston said “I thought you--”

Edun shook her head. “You go first.” 

Preston shrugged. “I was going to say… I thought you should know. Sturges and I might have… accidentally found your third soldier.”

“Oh?”

“When we were salvaging for parts, the day we found that flight suit… We saw a distress pulser like the one you and I found today. We didn’t know what it was at the time, so we just...left it. But your third soldier is at the National Guard center, and fortunately for you...we cleared the place out already.” 

She felt somewhat relieved. “Well, that’s good news, at least. I can pick it up while Dogmeat is on the mend.”

A long moment of silence stretched out before Preston prompted, “You were going to say something, too.” 

She bit her lip and stared out at the water, watching sunlight sparkle across the ripples. Preston waited, his face pensive.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asked at last. She felt her cheeks heat up. “Last night, before you left. You kissed me.” She couldn’t meet his eyes, it was uncomfortable enough just asking the question.

“I guess I...found you to be very kissable, just then.” 

She cocked her head at him. “Really? That’s it? You thought I was kissable?” 

His lips spread into a slow smile and he rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Maybe I like a lot of things about you, and the kissability is just part of it.” 

_ Why was her neck so hot?  _ “I see. Are you...planning on more of that in the future?”

His dark eyes regarded her with interest. “Only if it’s what you want.” 

“You saved my dog. As far as I’m concerned, you can kiss me as much as you want.”

It was the wrong thing to say. She saw him retreat back into himself a little, the smile on his lips fading.  _ Shit.  _

“You saved me, you know,” he said, turning his face away to look at the water. “When you found me that day, I had given up. I didn’t want to live anymore. I’m not saying I would have taken my own life, but...I’d have found a way to end it all. Maybe if we’d survived those raiders without you, I’d have let the Deathclaw get me. I don’t know. I just didn’t want to keep going. I didn’t have a reason to.”

She reached out, taking his hand in her own and threading her fingers through his. He looked at the contact, his warm brown fingers clasping about hers in response.

“I lost everything,” he went on. “Just about everyone I’d ever known was dead. The Minutemen were torn apart by greed and betrayal. It was all we could do to escape with our lives. And then I watched my people dwindle away from twenty, to eight, to...five. They looked at me with fear. They were afraid I was going to let them down again; that they would pay for it with their  _ lives _ . You showed up like some kind of miracle that day. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that bright blue vault suit and that pip boy on your arm. You jumped right in and helped us. You wouldn’t even take my caps. That selflessness...it reminded me of why I became a Minuteman. It reminded me of who I was.”

He turned to her, angled her face up towards his with gentle fingers. “So when I say I like you, and I find you kissable, it is  _ so much more  _ than that. More than I can find the words to express. You’re my light in the darkness.” 

Then he kissed her again. It was different from the first time. There was more pressure to it, more warmth, an intensity that matched his words. She melted into it, her hand coming up to caress his face. Their two hands stayed twined together between them, holding tightly as though nothing could pull them apart.  _ Just like that, everything changes. Everything shifts.  _


	18. Scrambled Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edun runs into some trouble as events of the past come back to bite her.

After a considerably less eventful outing to the National Guard center, Edun turned towards Cambridge. Preston could not come with her on this one, he’d promised another settlement he would assist them with a mole rat infestation that was threatening their people and crops. Dogmeat was resting with Mama Murphy, no doubt cajoling the woman out of every snack she had in the house. So, Edun was alone again. She tried to occupy herself by remembering old cadences from boot. She picked up the pace, settling into a jog that would make her old instructors proud, and sang as she ran.

_ “Up in the morning right before dawn _

_ Roll out of bed and put my boots on _

_ Eat my breakfast too damn soon _

_ Hungry as a hound dog by noon _

_ Went to the mess hall on my knees _

_ Mess Sergeant, Mess Sergeant, Feed me please _

_ Mess Sergeant said with a big ol’ grin _

_ If you wanna be a pilot you gotta be thin” _

Her boots hit the asphalt with satisfying thuds as she fell into the old habit, and she relished the expansion of her lungs and the increased tempo of her heart. The USAF might be long gone, but she was still a soldier. She would never cease to believe in the things they stood for. Integrity first. Service before self. Excellence in all she did. The air was beautifully clear after a long night of rainfall, and she could see all around her bits of green to the wasteland. Here and there, a young sapling with green leaves rather than dead and brown like the others. A shrub, with leaves green and yellow amidst shadowed clusters of dried twigs. Over two hundred years had passed since the bombs fell, and it would seem Codsworth’s words had been true. Nothing ever truly died. It bloomed all the same.

She was a few miles from Cambridge and on her fifth cadence, this one about a dog named Blue, when the bullet hit her. Her steps faltered and she nearly fell, jerking to a halt on the road and staring down at the hole in her coat. She was stunned for a moment, then reacted - throwing herself from the road and down the embankment. She rolled down the steep incline, bumping into every rock possible, before coming to a painful halt against the trunk of a tree. She groaned, feeling every inch of the pathway the bullet had carved through her. Her descent had only served to accelerate the bleeding, and her duster was soaked through around the wound. She reached for her rifle, but it had come loose from its sling during her long tumble. Her .44 was still at her hip, and she reached for it with fingers already shaking with adrenaline. She looked at the bullet hole again. It was an exit wound. Whoever had shot her had gotten her from behind. She raised her pistol and waited. She could hear voices approaching. Several voices. She hoped the six rounds in the cylinder were enough. Her pack was farther up the embankment, too.

“...see that rifle of hers? Bet she’s got a load of caps,” a female voice was saying. Raiders, then, here to rob her. 

“About damn time this stakeout bore fruit. There’s been nothing for days. Be careful, she might still be alive.” A male voice. Authoritative.  _ Damn right I’m still alive. Show me that head of yours, I dare you.  _

The voices died as they drew close, no doubt wanting to avoid tipping her off to their location. She waited. After a minute, she saw a few grubby faces peer over the side of the road. She fired without hesitation, and made contact. She saw blood and brain matter explode against the blue sky, and with an alarmed shout the other faces retreated.

“I fucking told you to be careful!” The commanding voice again. 

“Did you see her, Eggs?” The woman hissed. “That’s the bitch from Concord. I’d know her anywhere with that fucked up face.” 

Edun growled. She knew a few of the raiders had fled for the hills that day. She didn’t expect it to bite her in the ass later down the road.

“Well ain’t that a little slice of fate,” Eggs said, his voice taking on a velvet tone. He called down to her. “That you down there, vaultie? Guess it’s  _ our _ turn for a little ass kicking.”

Edun sighed. Why did things always go from bad to worse so quickly. She was losing blood and with it some of her strength. She needed this to be over, one way or the other.

“Too scared to come down here?” She called back. “I see you’re just as much of a chicken shit as you were that day. You ran for the hills like scared little girls the second you saw that oversized lizard climb out. You’ll be a whole lot easier for me to kill than that thing was.” 

“Tough talk for some dumb bitch about to bleed out down there,” Eggs retorted. 

“I’ll be fine. You barely scratched me. Guess your aim is as shitty as it used to be.” She was trying to piss him off. It was her best bet at a fight on her terms. I.E., still conscious.

“We could throw a grenade down there,” the woman’s voice again, hopeful.

“Shut up, Scratch. I don’t  _ want _ to blow her to pieces. I want to watch the light go out of her eyes while I personally strangle her.” 

“I’m waiting,  _ Eggs.  _ My throat won’t strangle itself.” Her revolver was wavering, her arms growing tired and weak with the blood loss.  _ Hang on, Edun. At least go down fighting. You can’t just lay here and die like this.  _

The raiders were quiet for a long minute. She heard them withdraw, arguing amongst themselves in low voices. She waited, hanging on to her rage, willing it to burn and keep her wary. Maybe they’d decided to blow her to pieces instead. Her answer to the dilemma came shortly after, as a projectile hurtled through the air towards her in a long arc. She tried to shoot it from the sky, but missed. It landed about ten feet from her, and she recognized the cylinder. A stun grenade. It went off after a second, the concussive wave slamming against her, completely disorienting her. Her revolver went flying. Stinging smoke followed, and Edun fought to keep her eyes open against the onslaught but failed. She couldn't hear anything for the ringing in her years, and by the time she felt hands on her it was too late. She kicked and punched and clawed, letting out an angry roar as the raiders dragged her up the embankment and across the cracked pavement of the road. Someone struck her with a hard object - maybe the butt of a rifle, she couldn't tell - and darkness took her.

She came to slowly, her mouth dry as though she’d been without water for a lifetime. One of the side effects of stims. So, they’d treated her rather than let her bleed out. That wasn’t good. Raiders didn’t often keep people alive in order to gift them a basket of cookies. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but judging from the position of the sun in the sky it had been something like two hours. There was a fire burning in the center of the camp, and across from it she saw Eggs and his motley crew digging through her possessions. Eggs, she guessed from the sheer size and ugliness of him, was digging through the pockets of her duster. She looked down and realized with disgust and fury that she’d been stripped down to her shorts and undershirt. Her undershirt had seen better days. The garment was stiff with drying blood. The entire right side had been soaked through with it. She was bound tightly by leather cords. They dug into her wrists and ankles. She’d been lashed to a tree, the rough bark digging into her back. She looked back up and saw Eggs pull something from the inner breast pocket of her coat.

“Who’s this, then, your  _ girlfriend _ ?” He sneered, turning over the old photo of Nora in his grubby hand to show her.

“Put that down,” Edun snarled. Eggs chortled.

“Maybe when we’re done skinning you like a baby deer, I’ll track her down and show her what a sweet man I can be.” Eggs tucked the picture into his own pocket, and Edun swore if she got out of this pickle she would make Eggs eat his own  _ eggs.  _ The woman, Scratch, found Edun’s Swiss army knife and peered at it, pulling out each of the blades and tools. Eggs glared at her and snatched the item from her. “I’ll take that. You know the rules. I get first dibs.” The woman’s eyes glittered darkly, but she bobbed her head in assent and returned to pawing through the rest of Edun’s items.

Edun watched silently. She was testing the strength of her bindings, twisting her wrists and trying to figure out if it would be possible to loosen them enough to get out of them. She was shit out of luck. Whoever had tied her like this knew what they were doing. Surprising, a raider with brains. She considered assigning a step to her escape plan, but frankly, she was tired of making herself a to-do list. Nothing in this damn wasteland was something she could plan or control. Relinquishing her attempts at control would be her final step, she decided. She wiggled her wrists some more, hopefully. Eggs caught the movement in her shoulders and laughed, standing and strolling over to her. He got close. Close enough she could smell his rotten breath. The smell of decaying teeth and cheap alcohol. Not close enough for her to head butt him, unfortunately. She’d love to break his nose for what looked like a second time. He let out a dark little chuckle as he looked at her.

“Not so tough now, are you, vaultie?” He asked. He reached out as though to touch her scarred face, but drew his hand back when she bared her teeth in a way that was anything but inviting. “What happened to that pretty face of yours? Come out on the wrong end of a flamer?” She didn’t answer, and he pulled the Swiss army knife back out from his pocket. He extended the longest blade, turning the knife about to examine it. “It would be poetic, wouldn’t it? Killing you with your own knife. Probably painful, too, considering it’s little better than a letter opener, huh?”

“Is this what you do to all your victims?” She asked in a bored tone. “Talk them to death?” 

A smile stretched across his face, and she saw he was missing half his teeth. Well, that explained the smell. “Well, usually I cut them here,” he explained, drawing a finger slowly across her stomach. Just below her belly button. His rough nail snagged against the fabric of her undershirt. “Then I pull their insides out through the hole, inch by inch, nice and slow. Did you know the large intestine is five feet long? It takes a while, but I give them  _ every second  _ of the time they deserve.” His voice was soft, caressing. “Sometimes they die before I reach the end, but I figure you’ll give me plenty of time with that stim in your system still.” 

“Boy,” Eden said, willing steel into her voice, “You must be  _ real  _ pissed off about the ass kicking I gave you back in Concord.”

His eyes went hard at that, the amusement going out of them. “Gristle was my brother, you stupid bitch. You left him bleeding in the street. I never thought I’d see you again, but imagine my surprise when I realized it was you marching down that road as happy as can be. I’m going to wipe that fucking smile off your face, and enjoy doing it.” 

“I don’t know who the hell Gristle is,” Edun grinned at him mirthlessly, “But the only good raider is a dead raider, so all I can say is… Good fucking riddance. I’d do it again.”

Eggs struck her hard. Her head snapped back, the ridges of bark on the tree digging into her scalp. Blood filled her mouth. She let out a hard laugh and spat to the side.  _ That  _ was going to leave a few loose teeth. She was scared absolutely shitless, but she’d die before she let Eggs realize it.

“Are you trying to hit me or tickle me?” She demanded in an icy tone. Eggs snarled and struck her again, and again. She felt her nose break on the fourth strike. Sadness seeped into her consciousness. She wouldn’t see Dogmeat or Preston again. That hurt far more than anything Eggs could do to her. She wanted to pet her dog again. She wanted to kiss Preston one more time, wanted to explore where things might lead with him. She wanted to find Shaun and tell him about his father, to make things right in her heart at long last. Instead, she was tied to a goddamn tree and paying the price for her good deeds. Life was a real kick in the tits, sometimes. She let her neck relax, let her head fall, while Eggs rained blows down on her, his knuckles crimson with her blood.

Satisfied with her bloodied face, Eggs pummeled her body. His fist struck her where she’d been shot, and the still-tender healing flesh screamed in protest at the abuse. He hailed a volley of abuse at her, completely losing control of himself and screaming epithets into her face. Edun realized in some dim part of her rattled mind that she was laughing, a wild sound something like a hyena might make. Her laughter fueled Eggs on, his rage growing exponentially in the face of her amusement. Well, while not the best plan,  _ egging  _ him on - she mentally snickered at the pun - into beating her to death was probably a hell of a lot better than the planned disembowelment. She’d rather die with her insides tucked away neatly where they belonged. Scratch and the others, seeing Eggs become unhinged, tried to intervene. The woman called out to Eggs to _ stop, he was going to kill their prize _ , but he ignored her. When she put a hand on one of his arms he lashed out at her, sending the woman spinning a way with a bloodied lip. His gang moved back, skulking sullenly and watching the beating unfold.

At some point, Eggs regained some control, ceasing the assault. His breathing was ragged, his eyes full of fury and hate as he looked at her. Edun was barely conscious, one eye already swelling shut. She had to blink rapidly to clear blood from them enough to look at him. 

“Finish it, you fucking pansy,” she rasped out. She was terrified what would happen if he didn’t. Then something changed. For a moment, she didn’t quite register what she was seeing. A red dot appeared on Egg’s sweaty, blood-spattered forehead. A laser dot. She stared at the dot, disbelieving, wondering if it were a hallucination. She didn’t have long to wonder. The back of Eggs’ skull exploded behind him in a shower of red, gobby bits. His eyes went wide and then he fell forward, crashing into her and then collapsing to the ground at her feet. Edun jerked her head around, trying to get eyes on where the shot had come from. The camp burst into chaos, raiders scrambling for cover and grabbing their weapons. They didn’t stand a chance. A hail of bullets rained down on them, and Edun watched in satisfaction as Scratch took more than a few rounds to her torso before falling back into one of the tents, toppling through the canvas and collapsing it onto herself. Edun wasn’t sure if this was a good thing. She might well be changing hands from one bad situation to another. Whoever hit the raiders had considerable firepower at their hands, and there was no way it was a lone entity.

Heavy, thudding footsteps approached and she cursed.  _ Please don’t be super mutants. Please don’t be super mutants.  _ Here she was, trussed up and ready to snack on for the big green bastards. To her surprise, a suit of power armor with a Brotherhood logo painted across the chest came into her view...Followed by two faces she recognized. Rhys and Haylen. Her whole body went limp upon seeing them, and she let out a long groan.

“Holy shit, am I glad to see you guys,” she mumbled from her swollen mouth. The figure in power armor removed their helmet, and Edun was surprised to see Paladin Danse’s grim face peering at her. 

“It would appear we got here just in the nick of time,” he observed, reaching out a gauntleted hand to move her head side to side, examining the damage done. “Rhys, cut her down. Haylen, you’re going to need that med kit of yours.”

Rhys jumped to, circling the tree. Edun let out a moan of relief as the tight bonds were loosened and sensation returned to her fingers with stinging prickles. Danse caught her as she fell, lifting her gingerly and carrying her to a nearby bedroll. He laid her out on it carefully before stepping back and giving Haylen the space she needed.

“Was this a happy accident, or did you know I was out here?” Edun asked Danse, wincing as Haylen prodded her and assessed the damage.

“One of my scouts saw the attack happen,” the Paladin replied. “He radioed back to Cambridge as soon as he realized who the raiders had taken. We scrambled to respond as fast as we could, but by the time we made it out to the coordinates given...you were gone. It took us some time to locate you. The trees made obtaining a visual difficult. If not for one of these fools lighting a fire, we might not have found you in time.” 

“I need to set your nose before I inject the stim,” Haylen told her. “If I don’t, it’s going to heal crooked.”

Edun gave her a wan smile. “Do your worst. Can’t be as bad as the pounding I just took.”

With an apologetic look, Haylen gripped Edun’s nose and gave it a hard twist. Edun yelped as everything snapped back into place.

“You shouldn’t be out wandering alone,” Danse chastised her. “There has been an undue amount of raider activity in this area.”

“Well, everyone else was busy,” Edun shrugged reflexively and immediately regretted the motion. Haylen injected another stim, and relief spread from the injection site with blessed warmth. “I didn’t want to wait a few days. I needed to report back to you. Why put off tomorrow what you can do today, as my mother always said.”

“If you find yourself in such a bind again,” Danse said severely, “Contact the Brotherhood. We are allies, remember? You may ask me to accompany you any time you need the backup. Maxson has placed me at your disposal until we reach the Institute.” 

“I get my very own Brotherhood bodyguard?” Edun asked weakly. “Neat.”

Danse gave an irritated grunt, but Edun was lost in the effects of the stim as relief curled throughout her body from head to toe. She listened as he got on the radio and called for their vertibird to return, and Rhys threw out a signal flare for the bird to home in on. Satisfied Edun would recover, Haylen pulled out a dose of Med-X for the pain. Edun stopped her, shaking her head. 

“Just the stimpack, please. I’ll manage.” Haylen frowned but nodded, returning the item and helping Edun back to her feet. “Wait,” Edun said, freezing when Haylen tried to usher her towards the approaching bird. “I need to grab my things.” 

“We have your pack and your personal items,” Danse said dismissively, but Edun shook her head. 

“No. Wait.” She shrugged off Haylen’s helpful hands and staggered towards the tree she’d been tied to. She crouched unsteadily beside Eggs’ remains, grimacing at the carnage of the back of his head, before rolling his body over onto its back. She recovered her photo of Nora and the Swiss knife, clutching them to herself as she rose to her feet. Something warm enveloped her shoulders, and she realized it was her duster as Danse placed it over her. She smiled at him gratefully, tucking her arms painfully into the sleeves and returning her possessions to their rightful pockets.

“I am serious,” Danse told her firmly, one big hand remaining on a shoulder. “If you have need of fire support, I am at your disposal.”

“Well, good,” Edun said as she buttoned her coat over her scandalous attire, “You can come with me to investigate the problem with the water treatment plant later. That suit of yours will come in handy.”

He shook his head in disbelief at her undaunted to-do list, before steering her once more towards the vertibird. She gave Scratch’s feet a good kick as they passed the dead woman. 

Aboard the vertibird, Danse strapped Edun in. No doubt he didn’t trust her not to fall out in her weakened state. 

“Earlier, you said you needed to report back to me,” he queried as the buckle clicked into place.

“Ah, yes. I found your missing patrol. And I think your Paladin Brandis might be alive. I figured I’d stop by and see if you wanted to accompany me to his last known location. If he’s still there, he might prefer your familiar face to mine. It’s been three years, who knows what mental state he’s in.”

“The rest of his team...?” Danse asked, looking as though he wasn’t sure he wanted the bad news. He moved to stand across from her, gripping one of the handhold bars as the vertibird rose into the air.

“Dead, I’m afraid. Each of them went down fighting. I have their holo tapes and their tags in my pack.”

The big man closed his eyes for a moment, then murmured, “ _ Ad Victoriam _ . We will honor their sacrifice.”

His sorrow was clear; etched into the fine lines of his face and the emotion barely concealed in his brown eyes.  _ He is the kind of man who has earned the loyalty of his people,  _ Edun thought to herself.  _ It’s no small wonder Haylen and Rhys look at him with that mix of respect and admiration. He’s the real deal.  _ In pre-war times, he’d have made one hell of an airman. 

“You knew Paladin Brandis,” she observed.

Danse nodded. “I did. He was a good man. He was my mentor in the early years of my service. In many ways, he is responsible for the soldier I am today. It... pains me to think of him being out there, alone, all this time. If he’s truly still alive, he’s been in a mental hell for years. He must feel as though we abandoned him.”

“Let’s stop at the bunker first,” she urged. “There’s no point in waiting. I can give your pilot the coordinates.”

“You should rest. The stims might be making you feel better, but you look terrible and have some deeper injuries that need more time to heal.”

“Pish posh, I’ll be fine. Other than scaring Paladin Brandis with my face, there’s no reason for me to go back to Cambridge and take a nap.”

Danse let out a long sigh of frustration, but the look he shot her was one of begrudging respect. “Very well. Give me the coordinates and I will relay them to the pilot. You are to  _ sit there _ and stay buckled in. No exceptions.”

She gave him a devilish grin before pulling up her pip boy’s map and giving Danse the coordinates to Recon bunker Theta.

  
  


The vertibird set down at the mouth of a narrow canyon, unable to land closer to the bunker due to the high walls framing the road. Paladin Danse hopped down from the bird, the weight of his armor thudding heavily and cracking the already compromised pavement beneath him. He offered Edun a hand down, and she accepted it more out of grace than necessity, her leather boots granting a considerably softer landing. She was still in her skivvies and duster, though she’d buttoned the coat up for modesty’s sake. Haylen had given her a damp towel to wipe off her face, and the stim pack had long since staunched the bleeding and reduced the swelling. She might look a bit hellish, but considerably less so than she did an hour ago. Danse lumbered ahead with Edun trailing behind at his flank. If they ran into anything out here, he was welcome to do all the work. She’d had enough adventuring for one day.

Blessedly, there were no nasties awaiting them along the winding dirt road, and before long they found themselves standing outside the bunker. There was a security terminal mounted to the outside, no doubt to control the door access.

“Wait, I’ve got the code, hang on,” Edun said, flipping through her pip boy logs. Danse waited patiently, his rifle held at the ready in case anything sprang on them. She accessed the terminal and typed in the password. The code was still good, and she gave herself a little fist pump as the command menu appeared before her. She selected the option to open the door, and was rewarded by the sound of rusted metal groaning and giving way. Danse stepped into the bunker with Edun at his heels. It was dark inside; all the lights were out and only the daylight filtering in from behind them illuminated the space.

“Freeze or I’ll blow your damn heads off!” A voice roared from inside. Danse reacted quickly, extending an arm and shoving Edun behind him for cover. She let out a disgruntled protest at the jostling.

“Paladin Brandis,” Danse boomed into the darkness, “Is that you?”

There was a long pause, then a man slowly moved into the light. He was older, maybe double Danse’s age, with long and shaggy gray hair. He was sporting quite the beard, too, long and scraggly, shot through with streaks of white. He had haunted, deep-set eyes. He aimed his pistol at Danse, unwavering. “Who’s asking?” The older man growled.

Danse slowly lowered his rifle, setting the butt of it to the ground and leaning it against the bunker wall. Then, just as carefully, he raised his hands and removed his helmet. Brandis stared at Danse for a moment before recognition flooded his face.

“Knight Danse?” He asked incredulously, lowering his gun. “Is that you? After...all this time?”

“Paladin, now, but yes. It’s me. Hello, old friend,” Danse replied. Edun was surprised by the warmth in his voice. She’d only ever heard his soldier’s tone. This was new.

_ “Paladin? _ You finally got that promotion, did you? Well deserved, no doubt.” Brandis ran a hand over his face, as though trying to wipe away disbelief. “How can this be possible? Why are you here? It’s been  _ three goddamn years _ .”

“I was sent here on a recon mission, much like you were,” Danse explained, stepping closer. “Edun here helped me find you. She located the distress beacons left by your team. They left holotapes, which in turn led us here.”

Brandis turned his sharp gaze to Edun, who gave him a small smile and waved at him. 

“My team…” Brandis whispered. “What...happened to them?”

“They didn’t make it,” Edun said heavily. “They’re dead, Paladin. I recovered their holo tags.” She reached into her pocket and pulled the gleaming tags from it, extending her hand towards Brandis. 

“You did?” The man asked softly, his voice breaking a little. He stepped forward and took the proffered tags, his long fingers closing about them and clenching them tightly. “Thank you. This means...a lot. I...tried to go back to them. There was nothing I could do, not alone. I had no armor, no backup... I couldn’t do anything.” 

“Come back to us, Paladin,” Danse urged gently. “You are still a soldier of the Brotherhood. We need you, now more than ever.”

“How could they want me back after I failed my team?” Brandis asked, brows deeply furrowed. “I am not worthy of the title of Paladin.” 

“You did not fail them,” Danse contested, his voice laden with empathy. “You did everything you could. Nobody can fault you for that. The wasteland is an unforgiving place. You were outnumbered and outgunned. My team has not made it through this place without its share of casualties, either. There is still a place for you, Paladin. Come back to us. Rejoin your rightful family.” Edun looked at the Paladin and could see the pain in his eyes. He’d had his share of loss here, too. Her heart went out to him. She had been lucky to stumble out of that vault and into a group of people that had offered her support and comfort. Danse and his team had been out here alone, friendless and cut off from contact with their people.

She could see Brandis wavering, considering Danse’s words. At last, he let out a sigh and nodded. “Yes. I will return. Maybe this old body can still be of use after all.”

Danse’s eyes gleamed, and he straightened and clanked a fist to his chest, over his heart. “Ad Victoriam, Paladin Brandis. Welcome back to the fold.”

Brandis responded with a similar salute. “Ad Victoriam, Paladin Danse. It’s good to be back.” 

They gave Brandis some time to get his things in order. Danse radioed the vertibird and let them know it would be a few minutes. They looked around the bunker while they waited. Over the years, Brandis had acquired a considerable stockpile of food, weapons, ammunition, and an assortment of tech. Items that would, Danse assured her, aid them in their fight against the Institute.  _ The Institute. _ Edun had nearly forgotten about all that in the recent flurry of things requiring her attention. She needed to return to Nick. She’d put off things much longer than she’d intended to, but it seemed like everyone demanded a piece of her in this new world. She barely had time to sleep as it was. She would drag Paladin Danse with her to investigate the water treatment plant. She’d promised those robots at Greygarden she would, but after seeing the super mutants infesting the area she’d made a hasty retreat. It was a fight she felt more confident in with an armored Paladin at her side. After that, she’d make her way back to Diamond City. Maybe she’d squeeze in a hot bath somewhere, wouldn’t that be lovely. Hell, she’d been gone so long, by now Ellie and RJ were probably married with five children. She smirked at the thought.


	19. An Unexpected Friend

Danse was handling her with unexpected kid gloves. He refused to go to the water processing plant until she’d cleaned herself up and had a good night’s sleep. When she insisted she didn’t need to go to the Prydwen ‘just to take a little nap,’ he begrudgingly agreed to let her set up camp in a back office of the old police department. Haylen blessed Edun with a solar shower and a clean towel, promising to stand guard while Edun cleaned herself up. It wasn’t a hot bath, but the water was at least sort of warm. It was good enough. An unexpected bonus to being a consultant for the Brotherhood was a bottle of proper shampoo. Edun hadn’t seen such a thing since before the vault, and she was greedy with it - lathering herself up twice in a disgusting and opulent moment of weakness.

When she was done showering and had patted herself reasonably dry, she pulled on the clean set of BDUs Haylen had provided her. They were about the same size, though Haylen was considerably shorter than Edun. Edun had at least five inches on the more petite woman, but highwaters didn’t matter that much when you had boots to tuck them into. Her duster would have to be cleaned and mended, as well has her new flight suit. She was still feeling rather grumpy about that. She’d been reluctant to wear the damn thing to begin with, viewing it more as a priceless heirloom than something practical, but had decided to treat herself to the luxury that morning. And  _ now _ there was a hole through it. Kevlar plating was lovely, but there was only so much it could do. The raiders had been lucky with their bullet. The round had managed to pass through one of the jointed areas where the kevlar gapped for the sake of flexibility. Ah, well. Among Codsworth’s many talents, sewing and removing stains were on the list. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d given him a completely ruined garment to fix. Restoring peace to the Commonwealth was a hazardous job.

She ate dinner alongside the others. The field ration packs were surprisingly good. They were much like the MREs of old. Calorie-rich, nutrient dense, and filling. She ate her fill of what had been someone’s best amalgamation of Salisbury steak and potatoes, downed a canteen of water with an electrolyte additive, and listened to Rhys and Haylen chat. She hadn’t missed the obvious chemistry between the two soldiers. It was clear there was either something there… or had been, at one point. She was nosy. It was one of her personal flaws. She decided she would ferret out the information later. Rhys might be as conversational as a brick wall, but Haylen was far more personable and more likely to confide in Edun. Being around them and listening to the clipped military banter felt familiar... Like an old sweater you dragged out of the closet every season. Comforting and secure. There was always that lure dangling before her. The temptation to join in an official capacity and let someone else take the reins for once. She alternated between feeling confident in her role as General and desperately wishing someone else would deal with all this shit. If she’d been a Brotherhood drone, she’d never have found herself tied to a tree while a raider worked her over with his knuckles, for one. There was safety in numbers and security in a chain of command.

After dinner, Edun retreated to the rooftop. It was quiet up here. Below, the night shift sentries were taking over. Rhys and Haylen and Danse were settling down for the evening, and in the morning she would be off on yet another errand. She perched atop the defunct AC unit and fiddled with her radio until she found the channel she and Preston used.

“Preston?”

_ “Edun?”  _ His voice crackled through at once.  _ “I was starting to worry. You’ve been quiet all day.” _

Her throat tightened at the sound of his voice, but she regained control before she answered. “It’s been a long damn day. How did it go with clearing out the mole rats by Abernathy’s?”

_ “About as expected. Those damn things can reproduce about as fast as I shoot them, I swear. Where are you? I thought you’d be back tonight.” _

“I’m out at Cambridge still. Long story. I’m going to check out the water treatment plant tomorrow. Remember how  _ you _ promised those robots we’d help them?”

_ “Are you going alone again?” _ His voice was sharp.

“No, relax. Our friend Paladin Danse will be accompanying me. Apparently he’s been assigned to help me as needed.”

_ “There are worse people to have at your beck and call,” _ Preston mused. _ “Are you coming home after that?” _

“Not just yet,” she replied regretfully. “I figured while I’m at it I really need to follow up on that piece of tech Nick found. I’m going to see that Amari woman in Goodneighbor.”

Preston let out a long sigh.  _ “Okay. Just...Be careful. Don’t get in over your head on anything. I know how you are.” _

“I know, I know, I wont.” She considered telling him about Eggs and his merry band of thieves, but thought better of it. It would only cause him distress. She was apparently hell-bent on giving the poor man gray hair. “How’s my dog?” She asked, her voice threatening to become tremulous again. 

_ “Getting fatter every second you leave him in Mama Murphy’s care. She’s as good as a doormat when he turns the puppy-eyes charm on.” _

“You act as though I fare any better around him,” she teased. “Give him a hug for me. And a kiss or two. And tell him he’s the cutest fluffybaby in the whole world.”

_ “I’m not going to call your dog a  _ **_cutie fluffybaby_ ** _ , but I’ll give him a hug _ .” Preston chuckled. 

“I miss you,” she said stupidly. Crap. She was such a fucking moron. She’d gone  _ one _ day without seeing him.

_ “I miss you, too, Edun,” _ he responded smoothly.

“Anything I should know about? Any news or requests for help?” she asked, trying to cover her bumbling.

_ “I hate adding things to your plate,”  _ Preston hedged.

“It’s fine. It’s my job. Remember? We help people.”

_ “I know, I know. Well, a trader came through here today. Had quite a story to tell about some raider den in Boston and a crazy Irish woman being held hostage and forced to fight in a ring. Sounded like a pretty bad situation. If you find time while you’re in the area, maybe stop by and check it out. With someone to back you up,”  _ he added with emphasis.

“I’ll take RJ with me. By now he’s got to be bored out of his mind,” she answered placatingly. 

_ “Good. Now, the stars are out. Time for you to get some sleep, missy.” _

“Okay,  _ Dad.  _ I’m tucking in. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”

_ “See you then. Goodnight, Edun.” _

“Goodnight, Preston.”

She clicked off her radio and climbed down from her perch. Her heart ached. Was this...homesickness? She guessed it was. Sanctuary, and the people in it, had become home for her. She found she would rather be there than anywhere else in the Commonwealth right about now. More than anything, she missed the damn dog. With him absent, her fingers found their way to her mottled face again.  _ What happened to that pretty face of yours? Come out on the wrong end of a flamer? _

Sleep did not come easily to her that night. She climbed into her bedroll, dimmed the oil lamp, and closed her eyes. As soon as she did, flashes of the day’s events began to unfold in her mind’s eye, like a cruel slide show. Tumbling down the embankment. Bleeding out while she waited for Eggs and his cronies to come for her. The stun grenade rolling to a stop and detonating, as effective as comically large cymbals going off right by her ears. Waking up tied to that tree, and goading Eggs into trying to beat her to death rather than face evisceration. She tossed and turned, and though her body for the most part had recovered well - courtesy of Haylen’s care and the stims - she somehow felt as though everywhere Eggs had struck her still ached. More than anything, the memory of what she had believed to be her final thoughts tortured her. Believing she was near death had forced her to acknowledge something. She had something to lose now. A _ lot _ to lose. She’d built a life for herself here, and the thought of leaving it all was a pain as sharp as any knife in her heart.

-

With Danse at her back, clearing the super mutants out of the water treatment plant’s yard had been easy. Well, relatively easy. His armor could take a hell of a lot more beating that her squishy human parts could, and she used him as cover shamelessly. It turned out the plant’s pumps had stopped working, and the entire facility was flooded and crawling with mirelurks. It took some doing, but they’d eliminated the mirelurks and got the pumps back online. With the facility in working condition again, the robots would have the clean water they needed in order to maintain their greenhouse. As a thank you, the robots agreed to supply the Minutemen with anything they might need. Supplies, a place to rest, or clean water.

With their task done, they struck out on the long journey to Diamond City. Danse had agreed to escort her to the city, lest she run into any more bands of unsavories. They wouldn’t make it by nightfall, which meant... _camping._ Unless they could find some abandoned building to hole up in. With nothing better to do other than shoot the occasional Bloat Fly, Edun peppered Danse with questions. How long had he been with the Brotherhood? How old was he when he joined? What had he done before his enlistment? How was Paladin Brandis doing? What was the deal with Rhys and Haylen? How many flavors did their ration packs come in? Danse answered most of her questions patiently, though whenever she managed to strike a nerve with one, he gave her a dismissive scowl and moved on to the next and less offensive. He absolutely refused to gossip about Haylen or Rhys. She hadn’t expected him to spill the beans, anyway. He wasn’t the type to undermine his direct reports. 

When she ran out of things to interrogate him on, he surprised her by asking questions of his own. He asked her about her life before the bombs, about her career in the USAF. He asked her about various points in history, things she would have been much closer to than he. When she told him she’d seen things like the liberty bell in Philadelphia, he was in awe. The man was clearly a history buff, and the more she told him of the old world the more animated and interested he became. He didn’t seem to be aware of the informality as it snuck up on him, but Edun was enjoying it. She’d long had a suspicion that under all the bravado and that suit of steel, there was a man who could have an easy conversation and enthuse about something other than killing muties. 

“I can’t imagine what that must have been like, living before the bombs fell,” he breathed at last. “All I’ve ever seen is a land ravaged by them and creatures and people twisted by the radiation until they were no longer recognizable. I thought maybe the Commonwealth would be easier, somehow, but it is much the same as the Capital waste.” Something returned to him. She saw the moment a memory took hold, and noted the way his expression shuttered closed. His face darkened and he almost physically pulled away, back into his Brotherhood shell like a scared turtle.

“It wasn’t all perfect,” she said simply, following a crack in the road with her feet.  _ Step on a crack, break your mama’s back.  _ “Countries had been fighting tooth and nail amongst themselves for years before the bombs dropped. The bombs simply put an end to it. To everything.” 

The mood was broken, however, and Edun didn’t press him for more conversation. Apparently she wasn’t the only one carrying around old wounds and struggling to get past them. As evening fell, they scouted for somewhere to sleep. Danse didn’t give her any shit about her desire for an enclosed space, declaring sleeping out in the open to be foolhardy and tactically unsound.  _ Perish the thought.  _ The settled on a  _ reasonably _ intact house that was only missing half its walls and roof.

The night was cool, but not cold, and neither felt the need for a fire. Instead, Danse pulled out a small halogen lamp for light. They ate under the lamp’s soft glow. Edun was pleased to see tonight’s ration pack was some sort of imitation chicken and silt beans. Good, no goddamn carrots in sight. 

“You’ve lost someone, haven’t you,” Edun said. Danse paused in his thoughtful chewing to regard her coolly. “I know that look in your eyes. I see it every morning when I wake up.” She felt a little guilty for prodding him, but she wanted to know more about the measure of him. She wanted to know there was at least one Brotherhood soldier she could trust. The closer she got to the Institute, the more nervous her alliance with the Brotherhood made her. Danse heaved a sigh that was not entirely without drama, and set down his dish.

“I told you about my time as a trader in Rivet city,” he said at length. She nodded. “I had a friend there. His name was Cutler. He... Joined up with me. We both wanted to see more of the world, and to make more of ourselves than working as mere traders, scraping by day by day.”

“Makes sense. I couldn’t see you working as a trader your whole life.”

“Clearly I was ignoring my calling,” he agreed. “Anyway. About a year after we were posted to the Prydwen, Cutler disappeared on a scouting op. It took some convincing, but I was able to convince my CO to let me assemble a squad and search for him.” He ran a hand through his thick hair, remembering. “It took almost three weeks, but we eventually tracked him and his team to a super mutant hive. Those wretched abominations had slaughtered everyone but Cutler. He had not been so lucky.”

“Ah, shit,” Edun said softly. She knew where this was going.

“Those mutant bastards had used their FEV to... _ change  _ him. He wasn’t Cutler anymore. He was something else. My friend was gone. I had to...it was my _duty_ to...put him down.”

“I’m so sorry,” she wished she had some consolation to offer him, but knew such things didn’t change anything. The only thing that helped soothe pain was time. “What you did was an act of kindness. You cared deeply for him, and freed him.”

“Ever since Cutler died, I’ve seen many soldiers come and go. Some were brave. Some were honest. Hell, some were even downright heroic. But I’d never considered any of them to be a friend. There’s a part of me that is afraid to allow such a bond to form again. Fear that I’ll lose them, or worse… have to put an end to them, as I did with Cutler. Having a bond with someone and then losing them  _ changes _ you. But I think maybe...you and I could be friends.  _ Are _ friends.”

Edun was completely unprepared for that. “You consider me your friend?” 

“There’s something about you. Maybe I see a little of myself in you. You’re brave and loyal. You’re a damn good soldier. But it’s more than that. There’s a thoughtfulness to you, an indomitability that I...envy. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable with my assertion.” He looked somewhat abashed.

“I didn’t mean to discourage the sentiment,” Edun said hastily. “I just figured...I was an outsider to you. I didn’t think you’d ever warm up to me unless I wore the right armor.”

Danse looked at her pointedly. “Technically, you are.”

Edun looked down and laughed. She was still wearing those damn Brotherhood BDUs Haylen had given her. “Touché, Paladin. Touché.” 

She expected him to resume eating, but it was clear he had more to say. She waited for him to break the silence.

“Who did you lose?” He asked.

“He was a friend from my enlisted days. His name was Nathan Church. We were both stationed out in Alaska, part of the long and bloody war to retake Anchorage. I was on my second tour out there. He was on his first. He was the gunner assigned to my bird, and naturally we bonded over dead communists and poker games back in the barracks.”

She sucked in a long breath and continued. “I always won, by the way. Church was a rotten poker player, but he was even worse at holding his liquor. We'd ply him with a few games and be raking in his chips shortly after." She smiled, remembering. "Anyway, we were running supplies to the American lines when a missile took out one of our engines. Damn bird went down like five tons of useless metal. We managed to get a mayday out before landing, but it wasn’t without casualties. My pilot was dead, I was in bad shape. I managed to get myself and Church clear of the wreck in time, but...not far enough away.” She gestured at her jigsawed face, saw Danse look at the scars soberly before nodding.

“I didn’t want to ask, but I wondered.”

“Yeah. Got a little crispy in the blast. We tried to stay awake, but without stim packs shock set in. I fell asleep. Church fell asleep. Only I woke up. I think maybe he had some internal bleeding. I don’t know what happened. There was nothing I could do. All our supplies had gone up in flames. I hid in the burned out vertibird, tried to stay warm until help came. It was dark, cold. The wolves came at some point in the night. You can...guess the rest.”

Danse reached out a hand, set it on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. That must have been terrifying for you.”

She told him about the photo, and about going to see Nora the day the bombs fell. He just listened, his dark eyes regarding her quietly. 

“That’s why I’m trying to get into the Institute,” she summarized. “I have to get Shaun back. I owe it to his father.” 

“If there is anything within my power to help you attain that goal, it is yours,” the Paladin said solemnly. 

“Thank you, Danse,” she said with a soft smile. “I don’t care what Dogmeat says about you. I think you’re alright.”

“I really hope you aren’t hearing that dog speak,” Danse said worriedly, picking up his dinner again. Edun only winked in reply.

Edun slept soundly that night, surrounded by the half-standing walls of the old house and with the knowledge that Danse stood guard. In an unusual turn of events, she actually had a pretty good dream. She was taking a bubble bath with Dogmeat, and they were eating New York style pizza. She woke that morning feeling more rested than she had in a long time, and in an insatiably good mood. Not even Danse’s amused observation of ' _ You have drool on your cheek, Edun' _ could faze her easy nature. By lunchtime, they were approaching the enormous gate of Diamond City.

“Are you sure you want me to just leave you here?” Danse asked, gazing up at the enormous green wall with disdain.

“Well, I figured you had better things to do,” she said somewhat apologetically. “Besides, Nick is a synth. I’m worried about… tensions...running amok.” 

Danse flashed her a disturbed look. “Your Detective is a  _ synthetic _ ? An abomination of the Institute?” He sounded absolutely disgusted.

“See, that attitude is exactly why I asked you to drop me off. You’ve got the personality of a cactus sometimes.”

“Edun,” Danse said in his typical I’m-about-to-lecture-you tone, “He’s dangerous. At any time, the Institute could flip a switch and your  _ friend  _ would be little more than a knife wielded by an unseen puppetmaster.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Just trust my instincts, okay? Nick is good people.” She saw Danse wince at the phrase. “Besides, I need him. I’ll be in touch, okay? I’ll let you know what I find out about that little piece of Institute tech.”

His frown was one of defeat, but he inclined his head. “Be careful, Edun. That is all I can ask of you. I will be back at Cambridge should you need me.”

“I will. I promise. Later, big guy,” she said with a pat on his chest plate. She left him standing there with a worried expression on his face, disappearing into the shadow of the stands.

She found RJ sprawled out in an old chair by the church, his expression bored and annoyed. He was whittling something with his knife.  _ Probably making a spear to stab me with.  _ When he spotted Edun, he leaped to his feet and strode towards her with the look of someone spoiling for a fight.

“Where the heck have you been? It’s been a solid gosh-danged week,” he snapped as soon as she was in earshot. More than a few residents of the city turned to look with interest at the scene unfolding.

She held up her hands in an entreaty of peace. “I’ve been busy as all get-out. General of the Minutemen, remember?” 

“Fifty caps was hardly worth it to just sit here and rot, wondering if you were dead or worse,” RJ was fully steamed, his face red. “I couldn’t give an eff about the caps at this point. You didn’t send _any_ word.” 

“Shit, RJ, I’m sorry,” Edun said in a truly contrite tone. “Can I fill you in on everything that has happened? Then you can decide if you still want to take my head off.” 

RJ’s hands were on his hips, but she saw him cool a little, and he gave her a curt little nod. That was something, at least.

“Buy you a bowl of noodles?” She offered. “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”

“You’re always famished,” RJ rolled his eyes at her, but she saw the gleam of desire in their depths as he followed her over to Power Noodles.


	20. A Rather Unpleasant Walk Down Memory Lane

For lack of something better to do with it, Nick had put the piece of brain wrapped about the strange piece of Institute tech in his freezer. Edun wrinkled her nose when he produced the item, carefully sealed in a plastic baggie.

“Think it’s still…viable?” She asked, leaning in to look at it.

“Only Doctor Amari can say,” Nick shrugged. “I figured it worked for you, so why not a piece of Kellogg?”

She cast him a withering glance. “Your freezer is a far cry from my state of the art cry pod, you jackass.” 

Nick only shrugged one shoulder and grinned at her. Behind him, RJ said something to Ellie and she let out an effusive giggle. Nick saw her watching the two and leaned in close.

“They’ve been nearly inseparable since he and I arrived back here,” the Detective whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “Yesterday he brought her a handful of flowers he found outside the city. Bless him, they were a little wilted, but Ellie glowed as though the kid had brought her a diamond bigger than her head.”

Edun beamed at him. “It would seem I can get _ something _ right, at any rate.”

Nick doffed his hat at her. “A true mistress of intrigue. Now, if we’re all set, we’d best get going. I don’t think this chunk of Kellogg is gonna get any fresher.”

RJ reluctantly fell into step behind them as they left the door, giving Ellie a self-conscious wave goodbye. When he saw the stupid grin on Edun’s face, he growled at her.

“Not one dang word out of you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” Edun said primly. 

“Been meaning to ask you,” Nick said as they passed through the gate, “What the heck is up with that getup? You look like you’re about to march into battle. Don’t tell me we’ve lost you to that hive mind of tin-clad morons.” 

“It was the only change of clothes I had at the time,” Edun waved dismissively. “My coat and flight suit needed a break after a whole lot of me leaked out onto them.”

“Care to elaborate on that for me?” Nick asked. Edun had already filled in RJ, but she rehashed the tale for Nick as they walked to Goodneighbor. She had to start with the events at Concord for it to really make sense. He listened with growing alarm as her tale unfolded, clearly unsettled by how close she had come to death.

“I guess even the Brotherhood can be useful once in a while,” he muttered when she got to the part about the rescue.

“You should have had me with you,” RJ scolded from behind her. “They’d never have got to you in the first place.”  _ Even after a bowl of noodles, he was still sulking.  _

“Next time I will be sure to send you an official invitation to the raider party,” Edun commented drily. RJ answered with an irritated grunt.

They had to make a few stops on their way to Goodneighbor. The super mutants were out in force today, and the trio had to battle their way through several hot spots. Edun wondered where the damn things had come from. According to Danse, they had overrun the Capital waste for a long time. Only through strenuous efforts had the Brotherhood managed to push them back. There were still isolated pockets of them, but for the most part the area was considerably safer for humans. Super mutants made her think about Dogmeat, and thinking about Dogmeat made her pine for him all the more. By now he was likely able to run on that leg, and would be itching to go back out in the field with her.

Apprehension grew within her the closer they got to Goodneighbor. Part of it was the fear that the disgusting little baggie in Nick’s pocket was a dead end. Part of it was dread at facing Hancock again. Would it be weird? She hadn’t seen him since their drunken night of revelry, and the thought of it now made her feel on edge and tense. Things with Preston had taken an unexpected turn. She’d contemplated telling him about her little tryst with Hancock, but considering they weren’t necessarily an actual item or sure of what they were yet, she decided against it. She hadn’t done anything wrong, she had to keep reminding herself. She was a single woman. Very much so, on that particular night. She didn’t regret it. She’d had her share of flings before her marriage. It was the uncomfortable elephant named Acknowledgement in the room after that was the problem. 

As though the universe had seen her fears and sought to punish her further, Hancock was the first face they saw as soon as they entered the Goodneighbor gate. He was standing in front of The Third Rail, making conversation with a few of his watchmen, when they wandered in. His mottled face broke into an enormous grin when he saw them, and after a few more cursory words to his men, strode their way.

“Valentine! Lookin’ beat as ever,” the ghoul crowed, taking Nick’s hand in his own. “And RJ, I see your Gunner buddies haven’t gotten to you yet. Good to see you.”

“Likewise, Hancock,” the young man said, returning Hancock’s quick embrace. Hancock turned towards Edun and gave her a smirk and a wink.

“Edun. Beautiful as always.” 

She studied him for a quick moment. He was as open and friendly as always. She felt the tightness between her shoulders relax. Good. No weirdness. Just good old lovable Hancock. She gave him a big smile, and his eyes twinkled.

“What are you kids up to today? Come to drown your sorrows?” 

“All business today, unfortunately,” Nick said, sounding rather like it was anything but unfortunate. “We’re on our way to the Memory Den. Got something for Amari to take a gander at if she’s around.”

“She’s around,” Hancock replied. He pretended to look at a watch that wasn’t on his wrist. “Well, look at the time. It’s Jet o’clock. Holler if you need anything. Don’t burn anything to the ground while you’re here.” And with that, he was off in the direction of the Third Rail.

“I’d say that shit was going to kill him, but...Doubtful it could. Even in the amounts he takes.” RJ said with a tone of disapproval.

“What did he mean about your Gunner buddies? Have they been harassing you again?” Edun asked.

RJ shook his head. “No. Not since the last time. Don’t worry so much about it. Come on. Let’s get to Doctor Amari. I swear I can  _ smell  _ Nick’s pocket.”

“That might be the sandwich Ellie packed for you,” Nick said ruefully.

“She packed me a sandwich…?” RJ asked, looking a little funny and pink around the ears.

“Made you blush,” the Detective said with a low chuckle. RJ snapped his mouth shut, and his ears deepened from pink to red.

“Nick, shame on you,” Edun laughed as she pushed open the door to the Memory Den. The interior was dim, lit only by sconces mounted to the dark wallpaper and one solitary lamp. The décor was gaudy, even lurid. Enormous and thick plush curtains, richly patterned rugs, and mahogany wood furniture filled the area. Languishing on a tufted red day couch in the center of the room lay an attractive but older blond woman in a burgundy dress. She was generously shaped, and the dress left little to the imagination. Edun could practically  _ hear _ RJ swallow beside her.

“Well, well, Mister Valentine,” the woman said upon seeing Nick. Her tone was dulcet, velvety. “And here I thought you’d forgotten about lil’ old me.”

“May have walked out on the den, Irma, but I’d never walk out on you,” Nick quipped in return. 

“Oh, Nick, you big flirt,” Irma chastised. “Amari is downstairs.” Nick tipped his hat to her, and Edun followed him to the back of the room and down into the basement of the establishment.

Doctor Amari looked up from her work as they entered her lab. She was a tall and slim woman, with dark hair held back in a bun by two pencils. Shaggy bangs fell across her forehead, and her dark eyes were clear and perceptive. She raised an eyebrow as she observed their group entering before she spoke.

“Mr. Valentine, hello. I have not seen you for some time,” she said in greeting. Her accent was familiar, but Edun couldn’t quite place it. Not a typical Boston accent. “And you’ve brought friends? I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“We need a memory dig, Amari, but… This one’s not gonna be easy. The perp’s already cold on the floor.”

Amari stared at Nick for a moment. “Are you  _ mad _ ? Ignoring the fact you want me to... defile... a corpse, you  _ do  _ realize my memory loungers require  _ living _ , functioning brains to work?”

“Nick said you are the only one who can make this work,” Edun pleaded. “You’re our best bet.”

“The dead guy’s brain had knowledge of the Institute in it, Amari,” Nick prodded gently. “I don’t have to tell you how invaluable that information would be. To us, to you, to our... _ mutual _ friends. You need this as much as we do.”

Amari made an impatient noise of assent. “Fine. I will take a look, but I cannot make any promises. Do you have it with you?”

Nick produced the tattered freezer bag from his pocket and handed it to Amari. She took it from him daintily with her index finger and thumb, peering at the object inside. She turned the bag this way and that, recognition dawning on her.

“What is this…Is that...And...Oh my goodness, that is the hippocampus!” She exclaimed at last. “This thing attached to it... I think it’s some kind of… Neural interface?”

“I thought those circuits looked awfully familiar,” Nick confirmed with the air of someone who’d long held such a suspicion.

“I’m not surprised. I imagine most Institute technology shares a similar architecture,” Amari commented. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Mr. Valentine is an older generation synth, but Institute technology being what it is...He might be compatible.”

“Compatible with  _ what? _ ” Edun asked, not liking where this was going.

“It’s an incredible risk, but I think I might be able to wire the implant directly into his brain,” the doctor explained.

“Don’t worry about me, kid,” Nick told Edun. “I’m well past the warranty date anyway.”

“Like hell I’m not going to worry,” Edun flared. “Isn’t there another way?”

“I’m afraid not,” Amari sighed. “Not without a healthy, living brain. This is the only way you are going to be able to access whatever knowledge this person held.”

“Fuck,” Edun swore.

“Let me do this for you,” Nick said kindly, patting her back. “Worst case scenario, I start smoking San Francisco Sunlights and develop a taste for paid murder.”

“ _ Nick,”  _ Edun groaned, then relented. “Okay. But Amari better shut this down at the first sign of trouble.” The woman nodded an assurance. “Thanks, Nick,” Edun added sincerely.

Doctor Amari removed the implant from the surrounding tissue, and pulled a tray of instruments closer to Nick.

“Mr. Valentine, it is important you continue to talk to me throughout the procedure. Any slight change in your cognitive functions could be dire.” She got to work, her slender fingers moving delicately around the circuitry in Nick’s head. Nick made idle chit-chat with her while she worked her magic. “Do you feel anything different?” she asked at length.

“Not a whole lot. Flashes, static. Nothing I can make sense of,” Nick replied. Amari straightened and set down a tool. 

“That is what I was afraid of. The mnemonic impressions are encoded,” the doctor said, frustrated. “It appears the Institute has one last failsafe. There’s a lock on the memories in the implant.” She paced back and forth, thinking. “The encryptions are too strong for a single mind... What about  _ two _ ?” she asked, an idea coming to her.

“I don’t think I have the parts required to wire anything into me,” Edun said skeptically.

Amari shook her head. “No. I mean, we could load both you and Mr. Valentine into the memory loungers. Run your cognitive functions in parallel. He’ll act as a host while your conscious mind acts as a...driver...through whatever memories we can find.”

Edun chewed her lip. “Alright, let’s do it. I suppose it’s as lovely a day as any for a rather unpleasant walk down memory lane.”

“Climb into the loungers, both of you, and we will get started,” Amari said, helping Nick stand up again.

RJ, with nothing else to do, folded his arms and leaned against a wall. His face was screwed up in a dubious scowl. He didn’t like this any more than Edun did. Reluctantly, she climbed into the lounger. The plastic pod closed over her, and a screen lit up in front of her. Amari went to a control panel and began the process.

“Initiating brain-wave migration between the transplant and host...Mnemonic activity coming from the implant...it’s degenerated, but it’s there!...We’re going to load you into the strongest memory I can find. It might not be...stable. Just hold on…”

Edun was seized by a feeling of going under, of drifting away as though weightless. The world fuzzed out around her, and she suddenly found herself floating, disembodied, in a dark and heavy space. 

_ “Can you hear me? Ah, good. The simulation seems to be working, though the memories are quite fragmentary. I will try to step you through the intact memories, and hopefully one of them will hold the information you need.” _

Edun had never been one for drug use. She’d dropped acid once, at the party after graduation her senior year. The party had been intense, and before she knew it she was seeing spectrums of color she didn’t know existed. She’d felt as though she were a disembodied spirit, climbing out of her own eyelids and soaring into outer space. It had been fun, up until the part where she tried to climb the wall so she could lick the ceiling. The night had ended badly. She’d spent most of it shivering and crying in the bathroom, alternating with throwing up. That was a relevant experience now, because floating in this weird darkness that somehow resembled the inner workings of a brain was just as trippy. She caught on quickly, following the ghostly neural pathways as they formed in front of her. Before long, she was in the middle of the memory. She felt like a spirit, haunting the small child who sat on the bed with comic books laid out around him. Clearly this was Kellogg, though much younger. She watched the scene unfold. His furious father, pounding on the door and screaming about the noise. His mother, a hard and shrewish looking woman, telling Kellogg it was time he learned to be the man of the house.

_ “This doesn’t seem to be what we’re looking for,” _ Amari’s voice mused.  _ “We are too far back. Here’s one that seems more recent…” _

Back down the eerie pathway Edun went. This time, she saw a much younger Kellogg washing dishes at a kitchen sink. His hair was thick and dark, not having fallen out yet. His face was not without its share of hard lines, but the long and vicious scar did not yet mark him. So he’d had a wife, and...a child. A daughter. She had a hard time imagining the grizzled man changing diapers. Realizing they were still too far back, Amari nudged her on to the next memory. Edun got her answer to what had happened to Kellogg’s family and happily-ever-after as she watched him rampage through a facility seeking revenge for their murders. That was the thing about living a mercenary’s life...you brought anyone and everything you loved into the spotlight, for better or worse. Edun frowned. He’d killed his wife and child with his choice of career as surely as if he’d held the gun himself. She found herself without pity.

They were still nowhere near the answers Edun needed, and Amari nudged her on to the next one. Kellogg, settling deeper into his life as a hired hit man. Lovely. He didn’t even ask questions. Didn’t care to. This was more the Kellog she remembered. Calculating, cold. He’d lost the one thing grounding him to his humanity, and embraced the easier path. On to the next memory. This one was far more promising...It appeared to be Kellogg’s first encounter with the Institute. The Gen 1 synths were ugly, barely humanoid in their ghastly and skeletal appearance. Edun had the irrational desire to run from that nightmare fuel and those bizarre, buggy eyes. She had to remind herself she wasn’t really here, she was just a dream ghost on the weirdest spirit journey of her life.

The next stop was all too familiar. Edun floated in the long, frigid room of the vault and watched the breath puff out white from Kellogg’s mouth as he waited for her pod to open. She watched herself slowly come to, groggy and shaky. She watched as the scientist tried to pull Shaun from her, watched her exchange words with Kellogg as he held his gun to her. She flinched as the gun went off one, twice. Saw her body jerk and watched the holes appear in her vault suit, followed by slow trickles of blood. They took Shaun from her arms and closed the pod again, sealing her once more to her fate.

_ “I’m...so sorry you had to watch that,”  _ Amari apologized.  _ “I think I found a much more recent one. Hold on…” _

The final memory was the one they needed. Kellogg sat on his tattered couch, cleaning his revolver. On the floor lay a young boy of perhaps ten, flipping through a Grognak comic. Edun zoomed in closer, her heart rate accelerating. There was no doubt about it. It was Shaun. He was the spitting image of Church, down to the freckles on his nose and that wavy brown hair. He was a handsome lad, and did not seem to be at all bothered by the company he kept. She wanted to reach out, touch him, but the child before her was only a memory. Edun heard a noise behind her and turned to see a tall man with deep mahogany skin, dressed in a long black leather coat. 

“Kellogg,” The stranger said.

“You know, one of these days you’re going to get your head blown off, barging in here like that,” Kellogg replied conversationally.

“Minimizing my exposure to civilians is a priority,” the visitor answered in a clipped and professional manner. 

“Forget I said anything,” Kellogg said in an exasperated tone. “So what’s the big crisis this time?”

“New orders for you. Top priority. One of our scientists has left the Institute.”

Kellogg raised an eyebrow. “Left as in…”

“As in gone rogue. His name is Doctor Brian Virgil. We know he has been hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea. Here is his file.” The man handed a folder to Kellogg, who took it and immediately started flipping through it. 

Kellogg let out a low whistle. “Some heads are gonna roll for this one,” he commented. “Capture and return or just elimination?”

“Elimination. He was working on a highly classified program.”

“No kidding. One of the top Bioscience boys, then. Damn. I guess you’re taking the kid back with you?” Kellogg asked.

“Affirmative. Your only mission is to locate and eliminate Virgil.”

Edun was stunned at the conversation they were having right in front of a child. Her fears of the environment in which Shaun was being raised were all becoming very valid. He was lying there flipping through comic books while two grown men discussed assassinating an Institute defector. Possibly someone the boy had known personally. She was aghast at the callousness.

“You’re taking me home to my father?” Shaun asked, looking up at the man.

“Yes. Stand next to me and hold still,” he ordered. The boy rose obligingly to his feet and took his place beside him. The man put a hand on Shaun’s shoulder, then spoke into a device on his wrist. “X6-88, ready to relay with Shaun.” 

Two blinding pillars of blue-white light flashed, and then X6-88 and Shaun were no longer standing there. The room faded and dimmed around her, the memory pausing, and the TV in the corner lit up with an image exactly like the one in the memory lounger. Doctor Amari’s voice came through again.

_ “Teleportation _ . _Now it all makes sense. An entrance to the Institute has never been found because there_ _ isn’t  one. I can pull you out of there, one second…” _

Again, the world went dark about her and Edun had that odd sense of floating in a black ocean. She slowly came to again in the memory lounger, the hatch open and Doctor Amari waiting to help her out.

“How do you feel?” The doctor asked as she assisted Edun in climbing out of the contraption. “Any side effects?”

Edun bounced on her heels for a moment and swung her arms. “Nope, still in one piece, everything feels fine.”

Amari nodded. “Good. I’ve never done something like this before, so I was concerned about possible effects. Mr. Valentine is already awake and is waiting for you upstairs.”

“Thanks doc,” Edun said, heading out of the lab with RJ close behind her.

“What was it like?” He asked as they walked back upstairs.

“Fucking weird as hell,” Edun replied. “I don’t think I want to go through anything like that ever again.”

Nick was resting on a bench by the door, staring off into space. Edun approached him, curious at the unusually vacant expression. “Hey, Nick. You okay?” The Detective turned his head to look at her, and the motion seemed disjointed somehow. Like it wasn’t done of his own volition but rather a hand had manually turned it for him. 

_ “Find anything you liked, digging around in my head, bitch?” _ A voice that was  _ distinctly  _ not Nick’s came from his mouth, followed by a dark chuckle. _ “I should have killed you when I had the chance. I knew you’d come back for me.”  _ The voice coming from Nick was  _ Kellogg’s. _ She’d know it anywhere. She took an uneasy step back, and behind her, she heard RJ raise his rifle in alarm. She stayed him with a hand and a warning glance.  _ No, _ she mouthed. She turned back to Nick.

“Nick, buddy… are you in there?” She couldn’t help but remember what Danse had said to her at the gates of Diamond City.  _ At any time, the Institute could flip a switch and your friend would be little more than a knife wielded by an unseen puppetmaster.  _ She flinched, feeling guilty for even thinking of it.

“Huh? What? What do you mean?” Nick asked, eyes focusing on her, his dry and gravelly voice returning to him. 

“Shit, Nick, for a moment there you sounded like Kellogg.”

“I did?” The Detective looked disturbed by the news. He rubbed the back of his neck in one of his many all-too-human gestures. “That’s the  _ last _ person I want rattling around in my head...Well, if I get weird again, give my noggin a good smack and rattle that bastard loose, okay?”

“With pleasure,” RJ volunteered from the background. “That was creepy as heck, Nick.”

“So it sounds like we need to find this missing scientist. Doctor, ah, Brian Virgil,” Nick changed the subject tactfully, turning his attention to Edun. “Which means a trip to the Glowing Sea. Not that I mind. Radiation doesn’t hurt me. But you’re a little more tender and soft than this old synthetic body. That’s a dangerous place for you. What’s the plan?”

Edun sighed. “Well, first, I’ve got to check out a lead on some crazy Irish woman. After that...You’re not going to like what I have in mind.”

Nick frowned. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve those new friends of yours.”

“Those new friends of mine have some very nice power armor. It makes sense to involve them. I’d prefer that to overdosing on Rad-X.”

Nick sighed. “Well, you’re not wrong. I don’t like that plan. But you don’t have the luxury of metal parts, so I won’t give you too much crap about it. Just be wary of those metal jackals. They’re as likely to shoot you as help you.”

“What about me?” RJ piped up. “Like heck I want to get my skin melted off in that hellscape.”

“You can come with me on my next errand. After that, I’ll pay you to patrol the streets of Sanctuary. How does that sound?”

“The pay better be good,” RJ grumbled, looking nonetheless pleased.

“First thing’s first,” Edun said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “A hot bath at the Rexford. Then we deal with the raider situation.”

RJ let out an audible groan from behind her.


	21. Crazy Irish Woman, Indeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was boring but necessary, so here is a consolation prize. Two chapters for the price of one.

Edun had expected to find trouble simply based on the _ name _ of the place. High above the double doors, emblazoned across a makeshift sign in vivid red lettering, was the words ‘ _ Combat Zone _ .’ Edun eyed the place warily as she stepped over the bodies of the raiders who had been guarding the entrance. RJ had put a neat hole through each of their foreheads before Edun could be bothered to draw her rifle. From the street, she could hear the road of a crowd inside. The crescendo increased as they drew closer. She couldn’t begin to imagine what horrors the raiders were churning out in there. All the intel she had to go on was the vague report a trader had passed along to Preston. Someone was trapped inside and being forced to fight. Why was this inevitably what humans devolved to in desperate circumstances? Blood sports were so fucking crude, and wildly inappropriate in a world scrambling to recover from nuclear annihilation. Then again, this was the handiwork of raiders, and Edun was doubtful they wasted a second on introspection.

“We go in quiet,” Edun whispered at the door. “Don’t raise any alarm until we know how many we’re dealing with.”

“Well duh,” RJ said in mild offense. Edun threw him a castigating glance and slowly pushed one of the solid doors open. They stood in a lobby, and it was empty of threats - though to her left she could see two raiders trussed up and blindfolded through a set of windows. Their prison seemed to be an old coat room or something similar in purpose. Interesting. So not even the raider’s own kind were safe from whatever the hell was going on further in. The bound raiders didn’t react to the sound of her entry, so Edun held a finger to her lips at RJ and they continued on. She wasn’t going to shoot unarmed people, but she wasn’t about to free a handful of thieves and murderers either.

They slipped through the second set of doors just as quietly as the first, and Edun took in the scene before them from a low crouch. The building seemed to be arranged into a haphazard sort of theater. Rickety structures and seating had been arranged around a makeshift stage. The stage itself was a series of platforms pulled together, and bars stood fifteen feet tall, encircling the entire affair. The place was absolutely packed with raiders, who, in typical classy fashion were all rotten drunk and screaming, cussing, and throwing bits of trash at the stage. Edun wasn’t particularly concerned about anyone hearing the door hinges creak amidst the din of hooting and hollering. Besides, they were entirely absorbed in the scene unfolding onstage.

In the little area, an enormous and rather nasty looking raider circled a considerably smaller woman clad in jeans and a tight top. He towered a full head over her, and Edun could see the gleam of brass knuckles on each fist. Pauldrons adorned with spikes were strapped to his shoulders, and his head - bald save for a poorly spiked mohawk - glistened with sweat. She could see blood smeared across his face, and was impressed the petite woman had managed to get a strike in. He was a behemoth next to her. As Edun watched, she was stunned at the reflexes of the smaller woman. She ducked every punch he threw at her, sidestepped every kick, and darted in with lightning-quick jabs every time he left himself open. She was good. She was really damn good. Edun hadn’t seen a fist fight like this since the Heavyweight Boxing championship of 2076. 

Edun could see the woman’s mouth moving as she circled and feinted about her quarry, and while Edun could not make out the words over the roar of the crowd, she could read lips well enough. RJ looked at her suspiciously, and Edun realized she was grinning.  _ Some crazy Irish woman, indeed.  _ It would be her pleasure to bust the redhead out of this place. She examined her grenade belt. She had six frag grenades on her. The stage was far enough away the woman trapped inside would be clear of the blast zone. Edun gestured at her belt and gave an inquiring sign to RJ. He checked his as well and held up four fingers. She grinned again, mimicked a throw, and mouthed,  _ Give them hell.  _ He returned her wicked grin with one of his own, and in a tandem movement that would make any synchronized swim team weep, Edun and RJ began their hail of grenades.

Pure chaos erupted. As the grenades began to roll to their targets and detonate, raiders leaped up and fell over each other in their panic at the unexpected assault. Naturally, their first instinct was to turn on each other - but when the barrage of gunfire followed the grenades, attention turned towards Edun and RJ. By this point, they had established higher ground - climbing their way up to the platforms overlooking the stage. It was like shooting fish in a barrel as the raiders windmilled and desperately ducked for cover behind the sparse planking of their crude construction. 

The air grew hazy from all the gunsmoke and several small fires started by poorly aimed Molotov cocktails. RJ popped one last raider, and then the two of them held their breath and waited. There were ragged sounds emitting from a couple raiders clinging to the last seconds of life, but otherwise all was still. Edun carefully rose to her feet, rifle trained on the scene below in case there were any still able to lift a gun, but it was all clear.

“It’s about time you took me somewhere nice,” RJ dropped an empty magazine and reloaded cheerily. 

“And to think, I didn’t even have to buy you dinner,” Edun retorted sarcastically, making her way back down to ground level. She approached the stage, and was relieved to see the woman was unharmed. She was arguing with a rather fat ghoul in a patched up suit, and as Edun drew closer she was able to pick up their conversation.

“Is it over?” The ghoul asked, observing the unconscious raider on the floor of the arena. “Well, that could’ve gone worse.”

“I dunno, Tommy,” the woman answered in a thick brogue, “Seemed quite the performance from where I was standin’.” 

  
  


“Are you fucking high or something, Cait?” Tommy was incredulous. “You know what, never mind. I don’t know why I’m asking. Of  _ course _ you are.”

“Still won the fight, didn’t I?” Cait demanded, seemingly unaffected by Tommy’s accusations.

“You’re strung out and getting sloppy,” Tommy insisted. “Not that it matters, considering  _ this one… _ ” He gestured angrily at Edun, “Just effectively put us out of business for good.” He turned his wrath on Edun. “I’m not sure if I should kiss you or have my little bird here feed you your own entrails.”

“If you try to kiss me, you’ll be the only one eating your own entrails,” Edun offered sweetly. Cait let out a roar of laughter at that.

“Keep callin’ me your  _ little bird _ , Tommy, and I’ll help her,” she said nastily.

“What the hell is this place?” Edun asked, looking around her at the bizarre mess.

“Not from around here, huh?” Tommy answered. “This is the Combat Zone. Finest arena in the Commonwealth. Cait here’s the headliner. Hundred plus matches, undefeated. We used to serve a more...ah... _ legit  _ clientele, but about two year ago a gang of raiders rolled in and we became a much more...  _ exclusive _ establishment. Up until you removed our entire client base from the gene pool, that is.”

“Seemed like I pulled you out of a shit hole,” Edun commented, giving the corpse of a dead raider a nudge with her boot for emphasis.

“Lady, this place was our meal ticket. Excuse me if I don’t rush to lick your boots in gratitude,” Tommy whined. “They weren’t the friendliest bunch, but keeping those idiots entertained kept the lights on.”

“I imagine this place would look better in the dark,” Edun retorted mildly. She directed her attention to Cait. “You can’t want this. This is the absolute bottom of a barrel. You are way too skilled to be wasting away in this joint.”

Cait cocked her head and eyed Edun with bored amusement. “Oh? And what would you suggest instead ?”

Edun shrugged. “Work for me. I don’t know what you’re getting paid here, but I can fairly compensate you. And then you won’t have to share it with your... friend, here.”

“You don’t want her working for you,” Tommy protested, seeing his profit disappearing. “She’ll just slam more and more of that junk into her arm until one day she doesn’t wake up again.”

“Sounds like I’m taking a real problem off your hands, then, aren’t I?” Edun didn’t like this chintzy man in his chintzy suit. She liked his parasitic relationship with Cait even less.

“How do I know you’ve got the caps?” Cait demanded. She gave Edun a very long and thorough once over, her green eyes glittering in the still-flashing lights from overhead. Edun felt as though she’d just been appraised in a rather biblical fashion.

“She’s got the caps,” RJ interjected. “You’re not the only one who would be on her payroll.” 

“I hope you’re better with that gun than you are about eyein’ me arse,” Cait said snidely, and was rewarded by an angry sputter and pink ears from RJ. She turned her vibrant eyes back on Edun. “Very well, you’ve got yourself a deal. Let me grab a few things and we can be on our way.” 

“That’s it, you’re just going to…leave?” Tommy cried uselessly, but the group had already turned away from him and walked out of the arena. Cait left RJ and Edun to wait at the front door while she stuffed everything she needed into a large, grubby duffle bag. When she returned, she had the bag in one hand and a wicked looking coach gun in the other. 

“I’m on the clock now,” she informed Edun as she hoisted the bag over one shoulder. “Best start loggin’ the hours.”

“Should we do something with them?” RJ asked, jerking his head towards the raiders who still sat on their heels, bound tightly. Edun looked at them and frowned. The ugly side of her thought about Eggs and the meaty thuds of his fists hitting her, and she knew she was teetering on an edge. Before she allowed herself to fall, Cait made the decision for her - Firing a slug into each of the raiders. Neither Edun or RJ commented on the action, and Cait reloaded the double barrels in a forthright manner before shoving her way through the front door and into daylight. Edun wasn’t sure how she felt about this new mode of making decisions on the fly. She didn’t exactly  _ need  _ Cait’s assistance, not with RJ around...but something had told her the only thing that would lure the redhead out of this place was either caps or chems, and Edun wasn’t in the business of enabling.

She hadn’t missed all the telltale signs of a long-term addict. The hollowed cheeks, sallow skin, and feverish eyes shot-through with red were enough of a story in themselves. Since Cait had no interest in modest apparel, the track marks on her arms stood out like screaming neon signs. She was underweight, lean muscle corded beneath taut skin and lent her the wiry sort of strength she’d exhibited in the ring. She had a chaotic energy about her, fueled by chems and the sort of rage only a rough life could bring. Still, Edun recognized her for what she was - a woman running on fumes and in serious need of intervention. It was the sort of thing Edun had seen far too many times in the VA clinic. When life was shit, you coped however you could. Edun wasn’t about to start handing out judgements like this was bible camp, but she would do her best to help Cait...if Cait would allow it.

Her plan was to meander her way back towards Sanctuary. She figured maybe she could put Cait on guard duty, though she had concerns about leaving the restless woman so...unoccupied. Preston saved her from having to sort out the details when his voice came through over the radio.

_ “...Edun? Do you come in?” _

“Here, Preston,” Edun answered. “What’s crackin’.”

_ “I’ve got an urgent request for help. Normally I wouldn’t bother you, but...you’re kind of in the area.” _

“I’m all ears.”

_ “There’s a caravan pinned down outside the Quincy ruins. Their guards are dead and they’ve been in hiding for days. If they move, they’ll be spotted. Gunners are killing anything that so much as twitches out there. I know it’s incredibly dangerous, more so than most...But...you’re the only one who’s close enough to help.”  _

Edun looked over at RJ, who had gone a shade paler than usual. She remembered Winlock and Barnes’ warning to him. If he stepped foot on Gunner territory ever again, he was dead. 

“I’ll handle it,” she radioed back to Preston. 

_ “Who’s with you?” _ Preston returned, his voice sharp. Quincy was a very tender spot for him and she could only imagine how worried he was, sending her out there.

“I’ve got RJ...and now Cait. We can manage it.”

A long sigh, then,  _ “Okay. But if it gets too hot, back out of there as fast as you can. As badly as we want to help those people, your life isn’t worth it.” _

“I’ll keep you updated as the situation unfolds,” she replied. “Over and out.”

She released the button and stood there, running through a mental inventory in her head on guns and ammo. On their way out of the combat zone, she and RJ had replenished their stash and then some, courtesy of all the dead raiders. She wasn’t sure that was enough, though. Shit, maybe they should swing by Bunker Hill and see if anyone was selling a rocket launcher.  _ RJ. _ She realized she’d inadvertently volunteered him without even asking him. She turned to him and quailed at the dark look on his face.

“I didn’t mean to presume,” she apologized. “You know you don’t have to come. I would never ask that of you.”

“You aren’t sending me off on another errand,” RJ grumbled. “Look, it’s time this whole dang thing came to a head anyway. I’m sick of sleeping with one eye open. We take Quincy, and then we take out Winlock and Barnes. Boom, problem solves itself. You with me on that?”

“Hell yeah I’m with you. I’ve wanted to mop the floor with those two assholes since the first time I saw them.” RJ’s face split into an ear to ear grin at that. Edun then turned to Cait, who was watching all of this unfold with an enigmatic expression. Like the Mona Lisa, but a lot scarier. “Cait, the same goes for you. You don’t have to get involved in this if you don’t want to.”

“What, you think I’m scared?” Cait demanded, misinterpreting the intention. “You think I can’t run with the likes of you?”

“Not that at all,” Edun replied mildly. “But I am not in the habit of asking people to do things they aren’t willing to do of their own free will.”

Cait leveled a look at her that was full of confusion, suspicion, and disgust. “To hell with you. I’m comin’. You hired me to look after you and that’s what I aim to do. Beats sittin’ around shuckin’ corn or whatever terribly wholesome thing you had planned for me, anyway.”

Edun hit a smile. She hadn’t considered putting Cait on garden duty, but perhaps time spent tilling the earth wasn’t a terrible idea after all. She looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the bright sun. If they hurried, they would make good time. She led the way at a slow jog in the direction of Quincy.

-

Quincy was a shit show. The Gunners had dug in, and deep. Like burrowing termites, they infested the decaying and destroyed buildings. They had considerable firepower. Edun peered through RJ’s new 18x scope and frowned to herself. The rooftops were crawling with the bastards, and she spotted one Fat Man (not to be confused with Mayor McDonut) and more than a few rocket launchers. Bunker Hill had been a bust in that department. Deb hadn’t had any rocket launchers, much to Edun’s disappointment, but she’d had one thing that would be of use. A rather lovely and in reasonably good shape .50 BMG. RJ had crooned over it lovingly, and since he was the better shot, Edun had begrudgingly handed it over. If there was any chance of them making it out of here in any condition better than hamburger, it was going to be up to RJ. She settled for RJ’s old rifle, a reasonably sturdy and fastidiously dialed in .308. Cait was given Edun’s combat rifle, since according to cait  _ ‘She preferred to see the whites of their eyes before she shot ‘em’.  _

Edun wasn’t sure where the stranded caravan was, but she could see the bodies of their guards still lying along the road where the Gunners had shot them down. Flies buzzed around the corpses as they rotted in the hot sun. Edun supposed they were lucky it was only regular flies, and not something worse. This close to the water, all sorts of nasties tended to be drawn to carrion. RJ insisted they wait for lower light. It would make them a lot harder to see when the shadows of the trees and tall grass began to elongate, he explained. So, they passed the time by doing recon on Quincy, spreading out through the grass and doing their best to establish entrance points, weak spots, and how many heavies were inside. RJ had spotted at least one Gunner in power armor, but there could be more further in. Their best bet was to pick off anyone stationed on the rooftops, infiltrate the ruins, and take the roofs for themselves. Higher ground meant the advantage, especially in such close quarters and narrowed streets.

The light faded to RJ’s preference, and with a grim look of satisfaction on his face he threaded the silencer onto the long barrel. The silencer itself was damn near the length of RJ’s forearm, and Edun and Cait watched him prostrate himself with the enormous gun before settling into their own positions. They had excellent cover, granted by a few trees and a cluster of scraggly bushes. There was something immensely satisfying about what they were about to do. It felt like...Justice. As though they were avenging all the people Preston had lost. She wished he could be here, but also preferred he wasn’t. This place would only bring him pain. And so, she would bring these Gunners pain. For Preston. For Marcy and Jun. 

“Shouldn’t someone say something?” RJ asked after a long moment.

“Not sure what you mean,” Edun said, puzzled.

“It’s it customary to say a few words at a funeral?” She realized he had an impish grin on his face. The one he reserved for special occasions like big shiny new guns.

“Dearly beloved,” Edun put on her most somber tone, “We are gathered here to mourn the passing of every Gunner who had the misfortune to wake upon this day.” RJ let the first round fly, and through her scope, Edun watched one of the rooftop guards go limp. The suppressed .50 had a peculiar sound to it. A whooshing hiss.  _ Shhhhttttpp _ . “Let us now reflect on the excessive amounts of air they pointlessly consumed during their wretched time on this Earthly plane, for only the oxygen they took shall be missed.”  _ Shhhhttttpp. Shhhhttttpp.  _

“You’re both fookin’ bonkers,” Cait commented, clearly enjoying the show immensely.

“Don’t interrupt the ceremony, Cait,” Edun chided, before continuing. “May their sons and daughters grow up to be carrot farmers, doomed to toil upon the ungrateful earth until the Earth takes them.  _ Amen _ .”  _ Shhhhttttpp.  _ Through her scope, Edun could see the Gunners stirring like a nest of angry hornets. The Gunner atop the roof holding the Fat Man had tumbled down the slope and onto the ground below. Well,  _ that _ might complicate matters. 

“Two more, RJ. On the overpass.”

“I see them. I’m a professional, remember?”  _ Shhhhttttpp. Shhhhttttpp.  _

Gunners were spreading out across Quincy, the alarm had been sounded and they were filtering out of the ruined city and scanning the surrounding landscape for a sign of their attackers.

“We’re going to have company soon,” Edun said. “I say we switch to spray-and-pray mode.” 

“Minus the praying, please,” Cait groaned.

RJ shrugged. “Let’s do it. This far out, they’ll have a heck of a time reaching us before we get them first.” 

The three of them began firing on the approaching Gunners, staying low in the grass but otherwise throwing aside all attempts at stealth. RJ was the only one with a silencer, anyway, and right now numbers was more important than that advantage. The Gunners dropped like sacks of potatoes, but a few of them ducked behind some of the old cars piled up against the Quincy walls. Edun and RJ shot the old engines, and let the resulting explosions with the rest of the problem. More Gunners, coming from around the sides of Quincy and using the old trees for cover. The .50 rounds bit through the brittle wood as though it were cotton candy. RJ had chosen their spot well. They had an excellent view of the entire complex. 

They waited. Any Gunners that were left had clearly wised up, and were waiting in Quincy for the enemy to come to then. The grass around them was tall, but grew considerably shorter closer to the walls. Staying low, Edun moved forward, eyes and rifle trained on the ruins for any signs of movement. RJ and Cait guarded their sides and flanks. There was little opposition, and they reached the closest entry point unscathed. Gunners, some dead from bullets and others still smoldering from the exploding cars, littered the ground around them. Edun winced at the squelching beneath her boots. 

They slipped into Quincy and took stock of their position. There should be a stairway close by that would take them to the rooftops. Edun led the way down an alley, clearing corners before rounding them. There were the stairs. Still half-crouched, the trio made their way towards their goal. An enormous crashing noise behind her made Edun drop and swivel, and she stared in shock at the length of a power suit arm protruding from the brick wall they’d been following along. More importantly, at the metal fist that had RJ by the neck. More brick was smashed aside, and a woman in a beaten old suit of power armor shoved her way through the opening. She flung RJ aside violently, sending him skidding across the dirt, before swinging at Edun. The fist bashed into brick as Edun successfully dodged the blow, rolling and leaping to her feet farther away. 

“You look like one of those little Minutemen rats,” the woman snarled, hunching down. “You’ve got the stink of self-righteous about you. Are you one of that coward Garvey’s friends? Did he send you?” Her mouth curved into an ugly smile, and Edun had a brief fantasy about smashing those teeth out of her head.

Cait, seeing an opportunity, raised her rifle and fired. The bullets bounced harmlessly off the metal plating, and the woman responded by grabbing a chunk of brick - still clinging together with old mortar - and flung it at Cait. Cait let out a cry as she tried to dodge, but the debris hit her in the shoulder and sent her spinning away. 

“Didn’t anyone warn you against fucking with the Gunners?” The suited woman stepped closer to Edun, her footfalls heavy and deliberate. “Is the graveyard you stand on not warning enough for you?”

Behind Edun, a gunshot roared through the air. The woman in the power suit froze, her eyes blinking once, twice, before a rivulet of red from the hole in her forehead ran down between them. She crashed forward, landing with a resounding thud that vibrated the ground beneath Edun’s feet.

“Didn’t anyone ever warn you about wearing a helmet?” RJ’s voice, hoarse, grated out. Edun turned with an exclamation of relief, running to RJ and checking to make sure he was unhurt. He had angry red marks around his throat. He swatted at her hands, annoyed, and holstered his pistol again.

“I’m fine, jeez, relax.”

Edun rushed to Cait, who was still lying on the ground and looking rather stunned. There was an enormous gash in her shoulder, and she was sticky with blood. Edun knelt beside the redhead and dug the medical kit from her pack, opening it and locating the stimpack she was looking for.

“What are you doin’?” Cait asked, eyes focusing on Edun. 

“Healing you, obviously. Hold still.”

Cait stopped Edun’s hand with her good arm. “You’re wastin’ a perfectly good stim on me? Why?”

Edun wasn’t sure she comprehended the question. “Because...you’re bleeding. A lot. Everywhere. Making a huge mess, actually.”

Cait narrowed her eyes, trying to sort something out, before giving a resigned sigh and releasing Edun’s hand. “Fine. Your supplies to waste, I s’pose.” 

Edun injected the stim, then carefully wiped the area down with a clean rag. She gently pressed a sticky bandage over the gash, then tucked the medical kit into her pack again.

“There. The bandage should hold it together while you mend. Stay behind me and RJ. No heroics. We’re not done here, yet.”

The suspicion on Cait’s face was replaced by her usual enigmatic mask, and Edun took that as assent. It would take more than a penny to pry into Cait’s thoughts, and now wasn’t the time for conversation. They stepped around the pile of armor with the woman still inside and began the climb up to the rooftops. 

The roofs provided exactly the vantage point Edun and RJ needed. From up here, they could see nearly all of Quincy - and, coincidentally, the remaining Gunners that were milling about below. It took the better part of an hour to clear them out, and more than once Edun relied on grenades to smoke out the stragglers. Well, in truth, it was more...blowing them out. In pieces. Same result, anyway. The sun had all but set as they finished off what appeared to be the last few holdouts. They were all beat, though Cait was looking considerably better. She’d left the bandage on, and at one point Edun had caught the woman looking at her with an odd expression on her face, her fingers idly rubbing at the bandage.

With Quincy cleared and night descending, Edun suggested they set up camp on one of the rooftops. The sky was clear, and the Gunners had been kind enough to leave their bedrolls behind. After a dinner of thick slabs of Boston Brown Bread and pork n’ beans, Edun insisted on first watch. She told RJ he’d done more than his share for the day. It was true. RJ had done the lion’s share of the work, and she was sure by now his shoulder was black and blue from the savage recoil of the .50. His protests were halfhearted and he knew it, so after a few minutes of attempting to be noble, he shuffled off with one of the bedrolls. He was out in minutes. Cait retreated to the far corner of the rooftop, and Edun wasn’t oblivious to her need for privacy...or chems. She chose to perch on a chair overlooking the city, watching as the moon rose in the dark sky and eventually bathed the wasteland in silvery light.

It seemed like each day brought with it a new set of challenges...Challenges that kept her far from home. There was an undercurrent of need, always just below the surface of her skin, buzzing against her whenever she had a quiet moment like this. All she wanted was to go home. Hell, at this point, watching Mama Murphy name each shoot of new corn was preferable to being caked in grime and blood. She was far, far away from any hot baths now. She tilted the chair, rocking on the back legs and keeping balance with her toes, and thought about deep brown eyes and soft hands grazing over her skin. 


	22. Lanternshine Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The premise behind Kid in a Fridge makes no sense.   
> -

They found what was left of the caravan in the morning, hunkered down fearfully in the ruins of an old house. They were badly shaken, but other than being dehydrated, no worse for wear. Edun refused the offered caps, and shared a few cans of purified water with them, ignoring the disgusted noises from RJ and Cait. Edun provided them with the guns their deceased guards had left behind, and the caravanners assured her they would be able to handle the journey on to Bunker Hill. She watched them go, all the goods they could carry strapped to their backs with the pack brahmin dead, and hoped they made it to their destination. She radioed Preston and informed him of the rescue. He was awestruck at their decision to clear out Quincy entirely.

_ “I thought you were just going to rescue the caravan,” _ he said, sounding more than a little admonishing.

“Why leave anything half-done? We came out okay. Met some of your old friends. Pretty sure it was Tessa that gave RJ a good throttling.”

_ “I am very glad none of you were hurt,” _ Preston’s voice came back strained. “Tell me you’re coming home after this.”

“That’s the plan. We’re going to finish up some scavenging, see if there’s anything useful around here, and then we’ll be on our way.”

_ “Stay in touch. Let me know if anything changes.”  _

She clicked off the radio, and they returned to Quincy to finish their exploration and search for supplies. The city yielded plenty of ammo, grenades, and though Edun considered taking one of the rocket launchers, the thought of lugging the damn thing along with reloads for it all the way back to Sanctuary deterred her. She found terminals, and as she skimmed through the records she confirmed the woman in the power armor had indeed been Tessa. She’d been part of the assault on the Minutemen. Edun smiled grimly at that. The people who had been involved in the massacre were now mostly, if not all, dead. When they’d finished scouring the place, they hit the road again - Cait complaining she wasn’t a damn pack animal, until Edun told her she could  _ keep _ all the crap she carried. She was under no obligation to forfeit her pile of loot.  _ That _ shut her up.

They made their way back towards Boston, following the shoreline somewhat but staying far enough away that they didn’t have to worry about tangling with any Mirelurks. Edun felt she was amidst some stiff company. RJ wasn’t being particularly open with Cait around, likely preferring to fly under the radar of her acerbic tongue. Cait was being quiet and seemingly deep in thought. Edun would normally fill the space with chatter, but for once she was content to walk along in companionable silence.

At one point, RJ froze in place, tensing and lifting his rifle. “Shhh,” he ordered the two women. They drew to a halt, looking at RJ expectantly.

“What is it?” Edun whispered. RJ looked around them intently.

“Can you hear that?”

Edun strained her ears, but they were clearly not as sensitive as RJ’s. She shook her head.

“I hear someone calling for help,” RJ insisted. He resumed movement, stepping off the road and slogging through water and marshy grass.

“Not another mercy mission,” Cait groaned, but followed behind Edun all the same. Ahead, the remains of a blown-out house Stood. It was little more than a few remnants of beams, siding, and brick. The yard was littered with various items. Appliances, old cars, and trash were scattered in a 25 foot radius around the home. RJ pushed forward, his head tilted as he listened, stopping just outside the ruined home. Edun at last heard it, too. A small, high voice - like a child’s - coming from somewhere close.

“Hello…? Is someone out there…?” 

Edun oriented on the sound, and realized with surprise it was coming from a rusted out fridge standing close to one of the partial walls. Edun approached the appliance, gun lowering.

“Is someone in there?” She asked, feeling like an idiot at the obvious question.

“Get me out of this thing!” the voice replied. Definitely a child’s voice. It made sense. There was no way an adult would fit in that fridge. Edun jiggled the handle, but it was fused solid with rust.

“Cover your ears,” she warned the kid. “I’m going to have to shoot the lock off.” She waited a moment, then aimed her .44 at the old metal handle and fired. The latch blew to pieces, and the fridge door swung open. She peered inside. A boy blinked his rheumy, eerie ghoul eyes in the daylight. Edun dropped into a crouch so he would not have to look up at her with the sun at her back, and he focused on her.

“Thanks, lady! I was stuck in there for  _ so long. _ ”

“What happened? How did you end up in there?” Edun asked.

“I was with my parents, and then...they told me to run. They said to hide really, really, good. They said...don’t let anyone find me. They said raiders were coming. Dad was scared, he said they would sell me and mom. I heard yelling, and people running. I ran as fast and as far as I could, and I...hid in here. But then I was scared to come out. I was scared...that the raiders had got them.” Tears brimmed in his eyes and Edun rubbed his arm comfortingly. He sniffled. “Do you think they’re okay? Do you think the raiders got them?”

“I couldn’t say, honey. But we can check. Do you know where they might have gone?”

The boy nodded. “We have a home, outside of Quincy. I know the way. I can take you there.” 

“Then lead the way, and we will follow,” she said with a smile. She stood and offered the boy her hand. He was similar in age to Shaun. Maybe eight, if she had to guess. She was terrible at guessing the ages of children. She tended to hold her hand out when describing children to people, holding it at whatever height they were roughly, and let people who had more expertise on the matter fill in the estimate. 

“My name is Edun,” she said as the boy took her hand without hesitation. “These are my friends RJ and Cait.”

“Hello,” the boy said, eyeing her companions with wide eyes. “I’m Billy.”

“Nice to meet you, Billy,” RJ answered pleasantly. Cait only grunted and shifted on her feet, looking uncomfortable. Her face was a tight mask.

Billy led them back in roughly the same way they had come, though he found a road RJ had missed. Edun gave him a reproachful look, as though to say,  _ well, RJ, were my wet boots really necessary?  _ Before long, they were passing the walls of Quincy, and Edun found herself more than a little relieved they’d cleared it out the day before. The last thing she wanted to do was get in a firefight against the Gunners with a child in tow.

Billie’s house stood on the marshy land close to the shoreline. Like all houses in the Commonwealth, it had seen better days… Though the roof had been carefully repaired and the broken-out windows boarded up or repaired with rolled glass pieces. As they drew closer, it was clear that the house was being lived in. Edun could see the glow of an oil lamp in one of the windows.

“Mama!” Billie cried as their feet found the well-worn pathway up to the door. He raced to the house, but before he could wrap his hand around the door knob, the door flew open. A ghoul woman stood in the doorway, and upon seeing the child she fell to her knees.

“Billie! Oh my god!” The child fell into her arms, and she wrapped him up tightly in a hug. Tears flowed down her ragged face as she rocked her child, and Billie buried his face in her neck, no doubt crying as well. Behind the woman, a man appeared - also a ghoul - and joined the sobbing trio on the floor.

“Jesus fookin’ Christ, look at ‘em,” Cait muttered darkly from behind Edun. Edun didn’t react, only watched the scene unfold before her. After a minute, when Billie’s parents had regained their composure at seeing their son again, the father turned his eyes to Edun.

“You brought us back our boy,” he managed to choke out. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you. We have some caps we’ve been saving for a rainy day...”

“We’re just happy to see him home and safe again.” Edun interrupted. “That is reward enough.”

“We tried to search for him, but every time we got close to Quincy, the Gunners took shots at us,” Billie’s mother said, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. “We didn’t know where he’d gone. After we shook the raiders, we searched for him. We looked for days, but eventually the Gunners made it all but impossible to continue our search. We thought we’d lost him forever. That...That…” She dissolved into tears again.

“Thank you, stranger,” Billie’s father filled in for her. “You’ve given us back... _ everything.” _

Edun decided it would be best to leave them to their reunion, so after bidding Billie goodbye and ordering him to be very careful in the future, she withdrew from the happy home. The scene made her heart ache. She wasn’t much, but she’d like to be there for Shaun the way Billie’s parents were. She wondered if he would even want to come with her, or if...as Kellogg claimed...he was truly happy and loved. A tiny seed of doubt had begun to form in her conviction, and she hated Kellogg for placing it there. The only way to truly know was to get into the Institute. Maybe she was wrong about everything, and they weren’t so bad. Maybe they were exactly as bad as everyone said they were. And maybe...they would kill her the second she teleported in. 

They stopped again in Bunker Hill to sell off much of their scrap. Edun hadn’t made her comfortable pile of caps without some frugality and being a mean haggler. It helped that people knew who she was, now. They were much more lenient with their pricing and more generous with their payouts when they saw the General of the slowly reforming Minutemen come up to their counter. She decided to pay for a few beds for the night. It was late afternoon, and they wouldn’t make it much farther before night fell. Besides, they’d more than earned a break. When she informed the two of the plan, RJ looked pleased at the prospect of rest and Cait shrugged, wandering off in the direction of Savoldi’s. No doubt she had a liquid diet planned for dinner. Considering they were all flush with caps after Quincy, what the woman wanted to do with her caps was her business.

RJ excused himself, telling Edun he would like to clean all his guns while they had down time. Edun waved him off with a roll of her eyes. Alone at last, she wound her way up the long stairway of the monument. She hadn’t been here since before the bombs. She used to love coming up here, people watching as all the tourists took a thousand photos of the same thing. Now it was empty, the novelty gone. Just another trade hub in the Commonwealth. There was a small windowed room at the top. It was empty, save for a chair and a burning oil lamp. Edun made a pleased sound to herself, pulling the chair closer to the window. She rummaged around in her pack until she located what she was looking for - a battered copy of Don Quixote - and settled in for a little peace and quiet. She put her boots up on the window sill, the afternoon sun warming the dark leather as she flipped through the pages.

She lost all track of time, so absorbed in the book she didn’t notice the light in the room begin to fade until the strain on her eyes jostled her. She only moved the lamp closer, hanging it up on a hook so it would better illuminate the ink that had been faded by age and water damage. She knew she should go to sleep, get some proper rest before the final leg of her journey back to Sanctuary...but was reluctant to relinquish this world of bravery and misplaced chivalry just yet. She read on with little regard for the late hour, until she heard shuffling behind her. Edun turned from her distraction to see Cait standing at the top of the stairs. The woman was swaying slightly on her feet, and Edun could smell the alcohol on her breath. She raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“I’ve been tryin’ to figure out what sort of person I’ve tied myself to,” Cait said, leaning against the stone wall for support. Her brogue was thick, heavy, languid with drink. Edun was impressed she’d made it all the way up here without taking a tumble.

“And have you?” Edun asked, trying to read Cait’s expression.

“In the beginnin’, I figured you’d treat me like your property, orderin’ me about and such. So far you’ve been treatin’ me like an equal. Askin’ my opinion on plans, patchin’ up me injuries,  _ feedin’  _ me. Hell, you’ve been damn near... _ nice _ ...to me.” There was emotion in her voice, something like...anger. Edun wasn’t sure what to make of  _ that.  _ Anger wasn’t the sort of response she was used to getting in response to a belly full of food and a pocket full of caps. She kept that sentiment to herself, knowing if she voiced it she would only earn some curt words and ensure Cait stopped talking to her like this. So she shut her mouth and waited. Cait slowly slid down the wall until she was sitting just inside the little room, one foot still resting on the stairs below and the other tucked beneath her.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but...Your behavior is startin’ to make me wonder. What are you butterin’ me up for? If there is anythin’ I learned in the Combat Zone, it was that nobody does nothin’ for free. Everyone expects  _ somethin’ _ in return.”

Edun allowed her eyes to meet Cait’s. “That place stank of piss and puke. Didn’t seem like a good place for anyone to be, least of all you. I don’t know what sort of person you think I am, but I’m not looking for an accessory or a body shield. If you don’t want to travel with me, that has been your choice from the beginning.”

Cait swallowed and averted her eyes. “I spent three years livin’ there. Yes, it was a shite-hole. But I was makin’ me own caps. Had a bed to sleep in and three hot meals a day. Then the raiders took over the place, and...well, you know how they are. Hardly a gentle lot. After they moved in, I had to sleep with one eye open. If you didn’t keep lookin’ over your shoulder, they’d be likely to rob you or sucker punch you or...worse.” Edun winced at the allusion. “Didn’t take me long to figure out I’d have to put me hard-earned caps to use. Buyin’ friends was essential to survival.” She ran a hand through her hair, creating quite an effect as it stood up in all directions. “I guess I’m wonderin’...when you’re gonna hand me a bill.”

Edun lowered her legs from the window sill. She leaned forward and ran her fingers along the ruined side of her face.

“I don’t need anything from you, Cait. I  _ have _ everything I need. My reasons are as simple as I saw someone in a bad position, and I did what I could to help. That’s it. Stick around. See what I’m about. I can’t promise you’ll always be safe. We do dangerous work around here. But I  _ can  _ promise you a bed, and three meals a day, and decent company... if you don’t mind RJ’s snoring on occasion. If you decide I’m not the sort you want to run with, then go. I’ll make sure you’re compensated for your time.”

“I don’t understand you,” Cait shook her head. “But I s’pose only time will tell.” She struggled back up to her feet, gave Edun a long and searching look, and then began the long descent down. Edun considered helping her, but decided the offer would be seen as an insult. If she was going to get through to Cait, the best thing she could do was give the woman her space and wait patiently. She sighed, tucked her book back into its pocket, and got to her feet. It was nearly one in the morning, and she needed to get  _ some  _ sleep.

RJ was already tucked in when she entered the small room, his duster pulled over himself for a blanket. She’d paid for three beds, and three beds she had gotten… in the form of bare mattresses placed closely together on the wooden plank floor. It was still better than camping out in the Commonwealth, rocks digging in her back and worrying about yao guais creeping up on her while she slept. Edun shuddered. She placed her pack on the mattress closest to RJ, hoping it would substitute for a pillow, and settled down. She crossed her boots at the ankles and folded her arms over her chest for warmth. She was still wearing the BDUs, and they provided some warmth. The Kevlar was nicely insulating, at any rate. She closed her eyes and dreamed of thick fur beneath her fingers. She would see Dogmeat tomorrow.

Cait staggered in maybe an hour later, tripping over Edun’s legs and falling onto her own mattress. She stayed where she fell, and after cracking an eye to make sure the woman was still breathing, Edun went back to sleep. 


	23. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally get medium salsa spicy.
> 
> Shameless fluff, in which nothing bad happens to Edun for once.

Edun walked with all the restraint she could muster as they drew closer to Sanctuary, but it was around the Red Rocket that she caved and broke into a run. Neither Cait nor RJ had any interest in cardio, so they stayed behind with their leisurely pace. Edun raced past the Minutemen monument, boots drumming on the old bridge beneath her, and in the distance she could see Dogmeat charging down the street towards her. His exuberant barks were music to her ears, and he met her at the old neighborhood sign. Met was a gentle word. He bowled her over with his weight as he leaped up on her, large paws on her shoulders and the velocity behind his furry body driving her to the ground and knocking the wind out of her. He let out a series of whining little yelps while he gave her face a thorough bathing. She let him, laughing and squealing, her arms wrapped around the hairy beast. She spoke in a continuous singsong, no real sense to it.  _ Honeycutiebabybunsugarmuffinsnackycakeywhosagoodboywhomissedme?  _ This went on for some time, until she heard footsteps and Preston’s long legs and dusty boots came into view.

“Okay, okay, damn it, shoo,” Edun chuckled, pushing the dog off of her reluctantly. He was wagging violently, his tail beating against Preston’s shins. She saw the man wince, but he held his ground. She was impressed. That tail packed a hell of a punch, moreso the happier Dogmeat was. The way Preston looked down at her turned her insides upside down, and as she scrambled for purchase off the ground he extended a hand to help her back up. As soon as she was upright she threw her arms around him, feeling rather unabashed in her relief to see him again. His voice over the radio while she was away had been like breadcrumbs to a starving belly, and this... this now...was a  _ feast.  _

“Eugh, get off me, you dirty little mole rat!” A voice cried somewhat shrilly from the bridge. Edun turned within the circle of Preston’s arms and saw Dogmeat doing his best to lick Cait’s denim-clad leg while she flapped her hands at him, much like an old woman shooing flies from her baking.

RJ ambled past Edun and Preston, completely ignoring their gross display of affection. “RJ,” Edun called to him as he passed. “Can you give Cait a little tour of Sanctuary? Get her settled in?”

“That’ll be fifty caps,” He said, beating the old joke black and blue, but he waved Cait after him and she followed, dodging Dogmeat’s affections.

“Oh!” Edun exclaimed, dropping the embrace and sliding her pack from her shoulders. From its depths she pulled out a dingy but quite intact small teddy bear. She was fairly certain she saw Dogmeat’s pupils contract upon spying the treasure, and she waved it over her head for him before tossing it as far as she could. It wasn’t a very heavy or aerodynamic teddy bear, and it sailed perhaps 15 feet before Dogmeat caught it in midair. In typical fashion, he entirely forgot Edun existed and trotted away, no doubt dragging his prize off to his doghouse.

“He’s awful when you’re not around,” Preston groaned. “All he does is whine and follow me around, like it’s my fault you left him.”

“I’ll never leave him again,” Edun vowed. “I missed him terribly. And...you. Very much.” 

“I think the dog might have the preference here, but that’s okay. I understand.” He looked her up and down, holding her at shoulder’s length. “You look like you’ve had a rough couple days. Why don’t you get settled in and then we can talk?”

He was correct in his assessment, though overly kind. She knew she looked an absolute fright, more dirt and mud than human. A bath was in order, before anything else. For an absurd moment she considered dragging him with her, so he could sit on the floor next to the tub and talk to her while she bathed. Apparently the forward woman who had seduced Hancock was dead, because the thought of asking such a thing of Preston made her face hot with embarrassment.

“Yeah,” she made herself say, “That would be nice. Give me an hour.”

“I’ll give you two,” Preston said smugly, releasing her. He clearly knew her average bath time and wasn’t going to test it.

Edun made her rounds first, greeting Mama Murphy with a kiss on the cheek before stopping to say hello to Marcy and Jun. Sturges was, as always, working on something in his shop and he paused his welding momentarily to wave at her, his face invisible beneath the helmet. Codsworth was outside the old Church home, and Edun noted how much improved it was. The others had been working to clean up and repair the place. Whether or not Codsworth actually  _ needed _ the shelter was another matter, but... each of them deserved a place that felt like home after the trials they’d been through. Upon seeing her, Codsworth buzzed over with excitement. 

“So good to see you again, mum! How were your travels?” The robot asked, eyes bobbing excitedly.

“Long and exhausting, per the usual. Remind me to tell you all about it when I don’t have road grit between my teeth and sweaty underpants.”

“Good heavens, but you  _ do _ get around the Commonwealth, don’t you. No rest when there’s work to be done! If there is anything I can do, please let me know. One can only tend to the hub flowers so many times.”

She brightened. “Actually, yes. Would you mind helping me with some...ah, blood stains and bullet holes?”

“Of course! It might have been 200 years, but Abraxo cleaner still does the job! Drop the items by and I will be happy to wash the wasteland from them.”

“Thanks, Codsworth. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Naturally, mum.” And with that, the robot floated away to fiddle with the plants some more. She had to give it to him, all the plants in the neighborhood were looking very well trimmed.

Since establishing themselves here, the group had taken to communal dinners. They’d pushed the old picnic tables together and strung up a pavilion of sorts over them. As long as the weather allowed, they took their meals beneath the overhang, chatting and laughing and sharing little pieces of their lives as the evening cooled. Cooking duties rotated, though Sturges was absolutely banned from such a thing. He might be able to deconstruct and reassemble a military grade circuit board while blindfolded, but cooking was not something any sane person let him attempt. They’d learned as much after an incredibly salty mirelurk stew in which Preston found some sort of gasket.  _ Oh, hey, there it is,  _ Sturges had said, reaching across the table.  _ I was lookin’ for that damn thing all afternoon.  _ Jun was by far the best at putting together a decent meal, and wasn’t above accepting bribes in exchange for taking over someone else’s cooking turn. It motivated the rest of them to squeeze traders for rare ingredients any time they had an opportunity.

She reached her door and stepped inside. The house was spotless, just as she’d left it. Everything was neat, organized, and carefully stored. In an act that was entirely unlike her, she began to strip right there in the living room. She threw her bandolier across a chair, dumped her tactical vest on the couch, slung her grenade belt on the coat rack, and then left her boots and borrowed BDUs in an untidy pile in the hallway as she made her way to the bathroom. Never in all her adult life had Edun so deliberately made a mess, and for some reason the freedom in it thrilled her. If she’d had any decorative pillows in this battered house, she’d have deliberately pushed them onto the floor, too.  _ Good lord, I really have changed. I went from an overly tidy vertibird pilot to...what, a messy undresser who shoots Gunners like she’s at a carnival game? Do I like this new me? _

She cranked the hot water on and watched the tub fill, pouring in bubble bath intermittently. That was the key to a good bath. You had to add a little bubble at a time, until the foamy peaks stood tall atop the steaming water. When the bath was ready, she slid into it - moaning a little as the soothing heat caressed her tired and sore body. By the time she was done scrubbing, the water would be brown...but for now, all she could see was glorious bubbles. She had been a busy bee lately, making all  _ sorts _ of new friends. She was somewhat looking forward to the trip to the Glowing Sea, if only for Danse’s company if nothing else. She wasn’t exactly feeling enthusiastic about the prospect of getting lost in an irradiated nightmare, but...that was how you developed friendships in the wasteland, apparently. You shot things together, got radiation sickness together, and ate roasted rad roach over campfires. It didn’t get more intimate than that.

She didn’t mean to, but the hot water and the silence had a drowsy effect. Edun nodded off in the tub, and when she awoke she was good and pruned and the bubbles were all gone, leaving tepid murk behind. Edun crawled out of the bath and wrapped a large towel around herself. She padded into the kitchen and dug through cabinets, stomach rumbling. Almost on cue, she heard scratching at her door. Dogmeat had a psychic sense when it came to cabinets being opened. Edun strode to the front door and opened it while saying “Listen, you, I know for a fact Mama Murphy fed you earlier today. She told me s--” The words died on her lips. Dogmeat waited on the stoop, wagging and looking up at her adoringly, and Preston stood beside him looking distinctly amused. Edun was suddenly very self conscious and very aware that she was still glistening wet and wrapped in only a towel.

“Am I early?” Preston asked, knowing damn well he wasn’t.

“Oh, hush,” Edun grumbled, standing aside to let the two in. Dogmeat trotted to the kitchen and sniffed around expectantly.

Preston walked past her, raising a bottle for her perusal. “Care to share a bottle of port?” he asked.

“ _ Do I, _ ” she said enthusiastically, snatching it from him. While she dug around in her drawers looking for a corkscrew, she tossed a crumbling biscuit at Dogmeat. He caught it with a snap of his jaws, and then sauntered back out, satisfied with his victory.  _ The little hellbeast had simply stopped by for a snack, and now he was no doubt going to make his rounds through the rest of the neighborhood.  _ She chuckled and finally located the corkscrew. It took some wiggling, but eventually the ancient cork relented and popped loose. Edun poured two tall glasses - it was always five o’clock in the wasteland - and then froze, realizing she was still in the damn towel. Preston was desperately fighting a smirk from his perch on the couch arm, and she abandoned her bartending to march back to her bedroom to find something to wear. She decided on an oversized black tee shirt and a pair of striped pajama shorts. There was no point in dressing up if she was going to sit here and get lousy with Preston. Besides, her hair was still wet. It dripped onto her shoulders and sent little rivulets of cold down her back. When she returned, Preston had seated himself more comfortably on the couch. She noted in surprise that he was dressed more casually than usual, in a pair of worn jeans and a fitted gray shirt that said NUKA TIME on it. No coat. No gloves. His scars were out in the open for all to see.  _ Was this...solidarity, for her?  _ She grabbed the two glasses and joined him on the loveseat, boldly stretching out and resting her legs across Preston’s lap.

“Cheers,” she said, gesturing with her glass. Preston met the salute with a clink of his own glass. 

“Cheers,” he echoed, before taking a drink. Edun sipped the port and smacked her lips. It wasn’t bad. Not at all.

“Where did you find this?” she asked. 

“The basement of a very rich and very dead pre-war family,” he answered. “So, details. Tell me everything I missed.”

“Hold on, I need to drink more,” Edun punctuated this comment with another swig of port. Delicious warmth spread through her as the liquid made its way down. 

She began with telling him about her trip to Cambridge and the encounter with Eggs. The further into the tale she got, the deeper Preston’s frown grew. His hands had been resting on her shins, but as she explained how she was rescued by Danse and his team, how they’d patched her up before escorting her to Diamond City, one of his hands slowly curved around her calf. The gesture was both somehow possessive and incredibly comforting. She told him about her bizarre journey through Kellogg’s memories, and her plan to make her way into the Glowing Sea to search for Brian Virgil.

“You really shouldn’t go out there,” Preston argued. “That is no place for a human. Every terrible thing the wasteland has to offer can be found in the Glowing Sea.”

“It has to be me, Preston,” she murmured. By now, the port had taken effect. She felt warm and safe, and the sensation of his hand on her calf was incredibly distracting. “You know I can’t send anyone else to do this. I’ll have Danse and my power armor to protect me. It’s better than nothing.”

He growled, but didn’t interrupt further. She moved on, telling him about meeting Cait and recruiting her. She knew the story he was truly waiting for was the one on Quincy, and when she described to him in detail her assault on the place and their purging of it, his eyes glittered fiercely.

“I wish I’d been there to see it,” he said hoarsely, his hand on her calf tightening slightly. She didn’t move away. “Thank you. I’m not even...glad. Just relieved it’s done. You will have to be very careful, now, Edun. You’re going to have a big red target on your back when it comes to the Gunners. You dealt them one hell of a blow.”

“Me and RJ both,” she sighed. “He’s got his own troubles with a few of them. We’ve got some more tidying up to do in that regard, but...tomorrow is another day.”

“You’re leaving again so soon?” His voice was low, heavy.

“No, it’s just an expression. I’ll be here for a little while longer, okay? Promise.” She reached out and chucked him under the chin. He caught her hand in his and turned it, kissing the inside of her wrist. She let out a soft little sigh at the contact.

“Every time you come back, it’s harder to let you go,” he sighed, pressing her hand to his chest. “I know you have a job to do - hell, it’s a job  _ I _ gave you, but - damned if I don’t want to be selfish and try to keep you all to myself.”

“Damned if I don’t want to be selfish and let you.”

“When you’re not here, I lie awake at night and wonder if you’re safe, or if something has finally gotten to you. I can hardly stand it. You have always been important to me, but now…” He shook his head.

“You lie awake thinking about me, do you?” she asked, keeping her tone light.

His eyes drank her in for a moment, and the hand on her calf slowly slid up higher, sloping against the curve of her knee and flattening over her thigh. He leaned forward with it, and they met in the middle. His mouth, warm and inquisitive, pressed to hers. She responded with fervor, hands framing his face and her tongue gently testing the edges of his parted lips. Their tongues explored each other as his hands - both of them now - explored her. When they’d had enough and both were breathing in somewhat ragged gasps, Edun removed her legs from his lap and sat astride him instead. Beneath her, she could feel that he ached for her as desperately as she for him. His questing hands returned, sliding up beneath her shirt and then lifting it over her head. He gazed at her bared torso with eyes full of need and hunger, and Edun instinctively wrapped her arms around him and pressed him to her in a tender embrace. His shoulders flexed as he returned the embrace, powerful hands sliding from the small of her back up, caressing and squeezing.

When they parted, he ran his hands over every hill and valley of her, thumbs running along the indent of her abdominal muscles before grazing the soft edge of her ribcage; sliding over the dip of her waistline and up to the undersides of her breasts before moving over them, eliciting a gasp from her as the pads of his fingers grazed her peaks. He replaced his fingers with his hot mouth instead, then, and Edun gripped the back of the couch and let out a soft keen. He took his time with her, as though this was a once in a lifetime moment and he was going to make the most of it. She was all but crying, biting her lip in an attempt to muffle herself. Hearing her desperation, Preston stood up, lifting her with him, and carried her to the bedroom. He lowered her to the old mattress piled high with quilts and pillows, pushing her back until she was lying down. He knelt over her, breathing heavily, and gently tugged her shorts off.

“Shit, Edun,” he said as he gazed down at her naked form. “You’re fucking beautiful.” There was only sincerity in his words, as absolute as any law, and Edun wanted to put her hands over her fucked up face and hide from the emotions surging through her. She must have started to, because she felt his hand stop hers on its nervous journey to her face. “Don’t,” he said, softer now. “Don’t hide from me. It’s okay.”

If he didn’t stop looking at her and speaking like this, she was going to goddamn cry. It was a terrible habit she’d apparently developed exclusively in his presence. Her throat wouldn’t let her speak, so instead she pulled him back down to her and kissed him fiercely. He returned it, burying his hands in her thick hair, before pulling back again.

“Are you sure about this?” his voice was unsteady, his pupils dilated. She nodded, her blood pounding like liquid fire in her veins. He stood and removed his shirt. His body was a living testament to life in the wasteland. The heavy muscle was overlaid by countless scars. The burns were there, on his hands and forearms...but the rest spoke of a long and hard life of fighting to protect others. He stepped out of his jeans, kicking them away, and the rest of him was much the same - a slash here, a stab there, a few remnants of attacks by fang or claw marring his beautiful amber skin. Seeing her eyes taking it all in, he shrugged before dropping back down to his knees on the blankets. “It’s a hazardous job, being a Minuteman,” he said, fitting his body between her legs and placing another kiss to the top of her breast. 

“You’re fucking beautiful too,” was her only reply. She wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips to meet him, and the only thing that mattered after was the closeness of their two beating hearts.

-

  
  


They slept through dinner, and blessedly, the other residents were either too traumatized by their union or too considerate to wake them, and they were left undisturbed. Edun did not stir until the shadows had grown long across the house, but refused to move from her bed. She didn’t want to rouse him, not yet. He slept soundly against her, one arm wrapped around her. Their legs remained twined together in the same position they’d fallen asleep in. Edun watched him dream, his dark and perfectly curled lashes fluttering. She hoped the dream was a gentle one. If anyone deserved all the good things in this world, it was Preston. Even if it were possible, she wouldn’t go back to the time before the bombs. Not for anything. This was where she belonged. She didn’t know if it was luck or fate or just fucked up happenstance that had brought her here and dumped her off like a thrift store donation, but damn it...she liked it. Yeah, there were super mutants and feral ghouls and the unspeakable horrors that were yao guai, but she would fight them all day every day for the rest of her life if it meant she could have this little slice of goodness once in a while. 

She felt... _ grateful. _ That’s what it was, this throbbing ache in her throat. Gratitude. Her arrival in the Commonwealth could have gone wrong a hundred different ways, and yet somehow she’d bumped into exactly the sort of people she would need most. She’d spent the last month crawling over the bodies and bones of others who’d been alone or without help in the end, and somehow...she had drawn a long straw this time, for whatever reason. It was almost enough to make her believe in all that Jesusy stuff. _ Almost _ . Edun’s philosophy had always been easygoing. Relax, don’t take things too seriously, your experiences are all worth having. Life would eventually dump you out exactly where you were supposed to be. The hows and whys of it didn’t matter. Too many humans spent their entire lives obsessed with assigning meaning to anything it might stick to. Cloud formations, constellations, the lines in their palms. What a damn wasteful endeavor. In their search for purpose they missed all the things under their very noses that were far more deserving of their efforts.

She ran her fingers up and down Preston’s shoulder in gentle strokes, savoring the weight of him against her. He shifted in his sleep, murmured something too quiet to hear, and tightened his arm around her before going still again. She kissed the top of his head and whispered to no one in particular;  _ “I’d fucking die for you, Preston Garvey.” _


	24. Fireworks Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a long chapter, I know. It's worth it.  
> \---

Edun spent the next week working alongside her people to continue repairing and fortifying Sanctuary. Cait clearly considered such things to be beneath her, but caps were caps, so she joined in despite a long list of curse words and complaints. RJ, seeing the unsavory task at hand, begged off of construction duty and volunteered to take up security patrols instead. Edun was hell-bent on building a security fence around the entire neighborhood. For one, they’d had more than a few feral ghouls shamble their way into Sanctuary and scare the piss out of people before the turrets took them out. For two, and Edun would take this to her grave, she had never stopped thinking about that damn yao guai encounter. She’d sleep easier knowing there was a solid barricade of thick wire and cinder blocks between one of those things and the place she chose to lay her head. She knew it was absurd, but she had a long list of other reasons that entirely justified the endeavor if anyone asked.

It took some doing, but eventually their order of lumber and rolls of wire made its way to Sanctuary, courtesy of three brahmin and traders with greed in their eyes. Edun paid them off, welcomed them to join the community for dinner, and immediately set to digging fence post holes. It was exhaustive work, but not without a catharsis of sorts. Cait joined her, and the two women slowly worked their way around the neighborhood, digging the holes about 10’ apart. Dogmeat alternated between watching them with the air of a bored overseer, and wandering off into the surrounding trees to look for creatures to annoy.

“What’s the fookin’ point of this?” Cait demanded at one point, straightening and bracing her hands against her aching lower back.

“Things that go bump in the night won’t go bump in Sanctuary?” Edun offered, not interrupting her shoveling.

“No, I mean, all this. This whole damn place. What’s the point? There’s no profit in it. You just dump caps into it and hope the raiders won’t get you?”

“Homes don’t just build themselves,” Edun said patiently. “If you want a place to lay your head, somewhere you can find safety and solace...you have to put in the work.” Her words only seemed to further agitate Cait, who, she realized upon closer inspection, was now looking very pale. The sweat shining on her skin wasn’t from the hard labor. “Cait,” she asked gently, “When was the last time you used?”

“Too fookin’ long,” Cait snapped in reply. “My stash is runnin’ low, and none of the goodie goodies around here are holdin’.”

“I have some Addictol in the medical kit,” Edun offered cautiously. “If you need it, it’s yours.”

Cait shook her head dismissively. “Won’t do any good. I’ve been takin’ this shite for far too long. Doctors can’t help me. Addictol can’t help me.”

“You’ve been using a very long time,” Edun observed, pausing in her work and leaning on the handle of her shovel. 

“I’ve lived the sort of life I’d rather forget. Hell, I dunno why I’m even tellin’ you this. Guess you don’t seem like such a bad sort.”

“Dogmeat thinks I’m pretty okay, and he’s an excellent judge of character.” Hearing his name, the dog gave a low  _ whuff _ and trotted over for affection. Edun happily obliged, fingers running through the soft fur. Cait cast a wary eye on him, but by this point Edun had figured out it was all a ruse. Cait liked the dog, she just didn’t like showing affection. 

“I guess it starts with the two wastes of humanity I suppose you could call me parents,” Cait went on. “I had to have been a mistake. I can’t remember a single moment that they treated me like their daughter. There was never a kind word from either of them. I was yelled at, beaten. Everythin’ I did was wrong. I was nothin’ but a nuisance in their eyes.” She met Edun’s gaze. “The whole time I kept tellin’ meself that they had to love me, even if it was just the tiniest bit, because they never kicked me out.”

“Did you ever try to run away?”

Cait nodded. “Twice. The first time I did it, they locked me in a shed outside of the house we lived in. The second time, they broke one of me legs. I stopped tryin’ after that. When me eighteenth birthday arrived, I found out why they kept me around. They slapped a shock collar around me neck and sold me to slavers. Didn’t even care enough about me to say goodbye. Eighteen years of sufferin’ through that shite and all I was worth to them was a pocketful of caps.”

“Cait,” Edun breathed, horrified and furious at the same time. “I’m so sorry. That was a terrible thing they did.”

Cait shrugged. “It would be easy to blame me charmin’ personality on me parents. But they didn’t make me this way.  _ I did _ . I was with those slavers for five years. Roughest five of me goddamn life. The things they made me do...The way they used me for their amusement...It sickens me to my stomach even thinkin’ about it. But I bided me time and learned to use their own methods against them. Stealin’ a few caps out of a sleepin’ man’s pocket is a piece of cake...as long as you don’t get greedy.”

“You’re one hell of a survivor,” Edun said. “Most would have given up.”

“It took every ounce of patience I had,” Cait admitted. “But after five years I had finally pocketed enough to buy me own way outta there. But instead of headin’ off to try and repair the shambles of me life, I gave in to me rage and I headed home.”

Edun nodded. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. Cait mopped at her sweaty face with her sleeve and continued.

“You can imagine the look on me parent’s faces when I kicked open their door. What you can’t imagine is what they looked like after...After I emptied me gun into them.”

“I’d have done the same thing,” Edun growled. “Sounds like justice to me.”

“Was it justice, or was it murder?” Cait asked, more to herself than Edun. “When I close me eyes, all I can see is their faces twisted with fear. And then me mind starts wanderin’ and I start judgin’ meself. And it’s rippin’ me the fuck apart. I don’t inject myself with all that shite and drink meself into oblivion because I’m a ‘tough Irish gal’, I do it so I can forget and move on with me miserable life.”

“Those  _ people _ ...and I use that noun loosely...condemned you to a life that was arguably worse than death. As far as I’m concerned, I wouldn’t have pissed on them if they were on fire. You have nothing to feel guilty for. What they did to you was worse than murder. I’m proud of you for scratching your way out of that pit, Cait. That took the kind of courage few people possess.”

Cait’s eyes widened and she looked somewhat stunned. “I didn’t expect you to say you were proud of me. I don’t think anyone’s ever said somethin’ like that to me in all me life.”

“I can’t change the past, but I promise to do my best to ensure your future is a little kinder,” Edun said.

“I still don’t understand why you care. I keep waitin’ for you to demand some kind of dues from me, but here we are...diggin’ fence holes and shootin’ the shite like we’re old friends.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Hell, I think maybe you might be the closest thing I’ve ever had to one.” She wiped at her face again, looking haggard.

“It’s okay if you need a break,” Edun stuck her shovel in the dirt and left it sticking upright. “Go take care of yourself. Do what you need to do. There will be plenty of time later to dig more of these damn holes.”

Cait gave her a grateful and relieved look, dropped her shovel, and headed back into the neighborhood. Dogmeat chuffed, and Edun gave him another loving scratch.

“You sure have a way with people,” she smiled. 

**The Following Day, O Fuck O’ Hundred**

Edun was leaning over the workbench, carefully hammering out the roll pin keeping the rifle’s broken firing pin in place, when Preston approached her.

“We’ve got trouble at the front gate.”

“What, another Child of Atom wandering the wasteland and asking if we would like to hear about Atom our Lord and Savior? Don’t tell me he has pamphlets, too,” Edun teased. She lost her light tone when she saw the look on Preston’s face.  _ Oh. Real trouble, apparently.  _ “What? What’s happened?”

“There’s a large group of Gunners on the other side of the old bridge. They haven’t done anything yet, but...They’re saying if RJ doesn't come out they’re going to kill everyone in here and burn the place to the ground.”

“Are they, now,” Edun said mildly, pushing her stool back. Cool exterior or not, her brain entered panic mode. This wasn’t Quincy. This was her  _ home.  _ Her people were here, and expected it to be safe. Expected her to protect them. Marcy was going to have a shit fit over this. Edun followed Preston out. RJ was waiting for her outside, Mama Murphy trying to contain him with a hand on his arm.

“This isn’t anyone’s problem but mine,” RJ was insisting. He saw Edun and turned to her. “Edun, I know you said you’d help me, but that was before they brought the fight here. I’ll go to them. Nobody has to get involved in this. It’s not worth putting any of these people at risk.” 

“Don’t act like you’re not one of us or that you don’t matter,” Edun’s tone was firm. “I wouldn’t let those assholes take you any more than I would let them take Mama, here.” 

“Thanks, kid,” Mama said with a wink. 

“They’ll kill you for interfering,” RJ protested. “Especially after Quincy.”

“They don’t know we were at Quincy,” Edun pointed out. “Besides, on that subject, we took out every Gunner in Quincy and didn’t die. I like the odds of this fight.”

“But the others,” RJ began again.

“...Aren’t going to let them take you either,” a voice behind him finished. Marcy stood there with Sturges and Preston behind her. “I’m sick of running. I’m sick of losing people. If those fucksticks want you so badly, they can deal with us first.”

“Yeah,” Jun agreed in a much softer tone, brandishing a pistol.

It was Edun’s turn to frown. “Marcy, Jun, you don’t have to be here for this.”

Marcy shook her head. “If we keep running, we’ll be running all our lives. Enough is enough.” 

“I’m going to go talk to them,” Edun raised her hands and silenced the ensuing protest. “If we can avoid bloodshed, that’s what we will do. Speaking of, RJ, you keep that smart mouth of yours inside Sanctuary while I go out there. You have a natural ability to piss off your old friends.”

“I am  _ not  _ letting you go out there alone,” RJ objected.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Preston said at the same time.

“I need the two of you to have a little faith in me,” Edun hardened her voice. She was the General, and if there was ever a time to swing that authority it was now. “The time will come to deal with Winlock and Barnes properly, but it is not here and now. When it is time, it will be on  _ our _ terms. Stand down. I will sort this out. In the meantime, I want all of you to find decent cover and wait. If you hear anyone fire a shot, consider it a declaration of war...regardless of who fired first.”

Sullen and reluctant nods and grumbles answered her, and Edun watched them disperse to seek their positions.

“Good job,” she told Dogmeat, who rolled his eyes at her. When everyone had cleared out, Edun switched on her radio and dialed into the desired frequency.

“Scribe Haylen, do you copy?”

A moment’s wait, then,  _ “I copy. Edun, is that you?” _

“It’s me. Can you put the big man on? I’ve got a favor to ask of him.”

_ “One moment.” _

Danse’s deep voice came on shortly.  _ “Edun. What's going on?”  _

“Hey, you. Missed me?” 

_ “Edun.” _ He let out a long sigh.  _ “This is a private Brotherhood channel, I told you it was for emergencies only.” _

“This  _ is  _ one. How long would it take you to… say… send some fully loaded vertibirds out to the Sanctuary area?”

_ “Why?” _ He asked suspiciously.

“Well, there’s a whole bunch of Gunners at my doorstep, and I need your help.”

_ “What am I supposed to tell Maxson when he asks about this designation of resources?” _

“Tell him the woman who now knows how to get into the Institute is asking for it.”

Another sigh.  _ “Tell me exactly what you need us to do.” _

She laid out her plan, and Danse told her he would do his best. He would need a little over half an hour to redirect all available air units in the region. That timeline worked for her. Now it was showtime. With Dogmeat at her heels, she marched through Sanctuary and to the edge of the bridge. Two Minutemen sentries stood by nervously, rifles trained at the large group across the bridge. The Gunners had fanned out over the landscape, setting up in tactical positions of their own. Edun had no doubt at least a dozen scopes had her in their crosshairs right now, and she did her best not to sweat profusely at the thought. She ordered Dogmeat to stay, which he did with a very pouty little huff, and then set out across the river. She forced herself to stroll across the bridge in an easy, unhurried manner, as though she had absolutely no idea what had brought the Gunners to her neighborhood. The worst thing you could do when facing down an army was to show them you were scared. Fear was showing your hand, and right now she didn’t have much of a hand. Just some turrets, scared farmers, and a handful of militia. 

The Gunners blocking the foot of the bridge stepped aside to allow her to pass before closing the gap behind her. Edun’s hair prickled at the back of her neck, but she didn’t so much as blink. Of course Winlock and Barnes would organize a human shield. They wouldn’t risk RJ being able to get either of them in his sights. Winlock was much the same as she remembered him, a tall and oversized meatloaf of a man. His eyes glittered at her beneath his cro-magnon-esque brow. He wore Gunner fatigues and a harness that reminded her of a darling little gay nightclub she’d gone to once, years back. Fantastic appletinis. Well, hundreds of years back, at any rate. Barnes stood at his side, radiating his usual strong and stupid, though he’d opted for an undershirt and jacket instead of tit floss.

“I remember you,” Winlock said, his eyes skimming her up and down. “You were lurking in the Third Rail the night we had our little chat with MacCready. You’re the General of the Minutemen we’ve been hearing so much about, huh? Don’t look all that mighty to me.” 

“Kinda skinny, ain’t she,” Barnes contributed.

“I’m afraid you guys missed the pool party,” Edun allowed a hint of nerves into her voice. “We’re all dried off and ready for bed, now. Maybe next time.”

“Cut the glib shit,” Winlock’s face soured. “You know why we’re here. We warned MacCready if he ever set foot on our territory again, there would be consequences.”

“He’s been here with me,” Edun said innocently. “We’ve been very busy with digging fence holes and patching roofs.” 

“Bullshit,” Winlock snapped. “We had reports come in from Quincy, little over a week ago. Said they were under attack and needed backup. They said,” and he stepped closer to her, menacing, “That one  _ hell _ of a sniper was picking them off one by one. Only one gun in the Commonwealth has that kind of skill. I should know. He used to work for _ me _ .”

He was far too close to her personal space for comfort, but Edun held her ground and lifted her chin fractionally lest she have to stare into Winlock’s nipplies. She willed sincerity into her tone. “I don’t know what to tell you. Must have been someone else. RJ hasn’t left my side for a second.”

“Oh, I don’t think he did it alone,” Winlock’s voice was low and deadly. “I think you were there, and I think you helped him do it.”

“Let me get this straight,” Edun scratched her head, looking puzzled. “You think that  _ one _ sniper and some  _ skinny _ Minutewoman killed every Gunner in Quincy? Talk about spreading rumors that turn into legends...Not that I couldn’t use the misdirected clout. I’m just some soft Vaultie who conned my way into the hearts and minds of the people. Shit, I can barely hit a tin can from 25 feet away.”

She saw doubt flicker in Winlock’s eyes, and pressed her advantage. “I don’t know why you two have such a boner for RJ. All he’s done is follow me around like a puppy dog and protect me from ghouls. He’s a glorified bodyguard. I didn’t realize by contracting his services I’d be stepping on your toes, and that’s the last thing I want to do. I can’t afford to have an enemy as formidable as the Gunners. If it’s caps you want, tell me...How many would it take to make you forget about lil’ ol’ RJ? I’m rather sweet on him, and I’d hate to see him end up in a ditch somewhere on account of misunderstandings.” 

Barnes let out a neolithic snort and nudged Winlock. “Skinny little vaultie’s got a crush, sounds like.” 

Winlock looked at her appraisingly. “Shame. You’re wasting your time on that skinny little shit when there’s real men to be had. But that ain’t my problem.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. She could see the greed in his eyes. They were mercenaries, and there was no sweeter music to a mercenary than the promise of a big payday. “Let’s say...two thousand caps, and you’ll never have to worry about us again.”

Edun pretended to blanche at the proposal. She licked her lips nervously. “I, well, shit, that’s…more than I have on me. If I’m gonna scrape together that kind of dough, you’re gonna have to give me a little time.” Her eyes darted about at all the Gunners surrounding her, and she continued. “Give me half an hour to radio all my nearby settlements. If I put some pressure on them, I can squeeze them for what they’re worth.”

Winlock chuckled. His manner had shifted, and she could see he now believed he had the upper hand over someone entirely at his mercy. “You’ve got half an hour to deliver. After that, we come in and take _ whatever _ we want.” If she weren’t in the middle of delicately balancing a deception, she’d have kicked him right in the balls for the emphasis he dared to put on that word. However, their dues would be paid in good time. About thirty minute’s time. She gave him a jerky little nod.

“If it’s all the same to you, in the meantime...Could you ask your men to pull back a little? I’ve got a lot of scared people back there. Even if it’s just as far back as the Red Rocket. I’ve got enough on my hands to handle without a full-blown panic creating more chaos.”

He was enjoying having control over the situation, and he inclined his head amiably. “We’ll fall back.” Then he glanced at his watch. “Twenty Nine minutes left.”  _ Fucking asshole.  _ She jumped visibly, nodded her head again, and turned back towards Sanctuary. The Gunners parted before her reluctantly, letting her bump into their shoulders and arms as she squeezed her way through. Another brilliant showing of their super-macho-ness. She’d experienced her share of it in the USAF, and it bothered her about as much as a fruit fly might bother a giraffe. Still, she let her body sway uncertainly. The weaker they thought she was, the more overconfident they would be. 

True to his word, Winlock ordered the Gunners back. She looked over her shoulder and saw them melting back into the trees towards the Red Rocket.  _ Good.  _ Dogmeat fell into step behind her as she walked. First she radioed Tenpines Bluff, then Abernathy Farm. She asked each settlement to send a runner to Sanctuary, and to have them run like the devil himself was behind them. She instructed them to make sure each runner passed within view of the Red Rocket. That done, she crossed the street and pushed open the door to Preston’s house. Half a dozen eyes blinked back at her before everyone lowered their guns. She walked past the puzzled group, ignoring the questioning stares, and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. Preston’s eyes bored into her as she returned to the couch, sat down, kicked her feet up on the coffee table, and cracked open the brown bottle.

_ “Edun,” _ RJ groaned, exasperated, “What happened out there? What’s going on?”

She glanced at her pip boy and took a sip of her beer. “Ask me in 24 minutes.”

“She’s either done something or she’s fucking up to something,” Preston sighed. “Fine. Play your little games, Edun.” He opened the fridge, grabbed a beer for himself, and plopped down on the couch next to her. 

Edun played nonchalance, sipping her beer and looking at the others innocently while they stared at her like a cheese puff in the grass at a dog park. She wanted to tell them her plan, but the asshole side of her was enjoying the suspense. Sometimes she was a fucking brat. That was how it worked out. Preston, by now being well familiar with her bullshit, relaxed on the couch and even stretched an arm out behind her shoulders. They waited, and the minutes ticked by in a relentless eternity. The Abernathy runner reached them first, ten minutes after her call. He was a slender young man who staggered into town huffing and puffing. Edun’s sentries sent him to Preston’s house, where Edun offered him a beer and gave him fifty caps for his trouble. The second runner was an older woman, thin and wiry and not huffing or puffing at all. She arrived fifteen minutes after Edun’s call. Impressive timing, given the settlemen’s further distance. Edun also offered her a beer and fifty caps. The woman declined the beer, but took the caps eagerly and waited with the others.

The fireworks show began shortly after, the distant hum of vertibirds growing louder and then followed by the racket of miniguns and missile launchers as the Brotherhood opened fire on the Red Rocket. Edun rose from the couch, set her empty bottle on the table, and strolled out to watch. The others followed, crowding around her like teenage girls at a concert. They couldn’t see the Red Rocket from here, but they  _ could  _ see the plumes of smoke rising as the Brotherhood rockets hit their marks. The finale was when the station’s storage tanks blew. The explosion was enormous, shaking the ground beneath their feet and rattling the damaged buildings around them as the magnitude of it ripped through the earth. After, it was cleanup duty as the Brotherhood mowed down any stragglers who tried to flee. Edun turned to look at RJ, who stood as though rooted to the ground, mouth open.

“You killed them,” he said, somewhat wonderingly. “ _ All  _ of them.”

“They were going to kill us,” Edun shrugged. “Besides. Fuck those guys.”

RJ chortled. “Yeah. Fuck those guys.”

“Jesus Christ, Edun,” Preston said, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “The poor bastards never knew what hit them.”

A vertibird drew close to Sanctuary as the others departed, setting down in the middle of Sanctuary and setting the dinner pavilion to flapping like a ship’s sail. As the rotors died down, Edun recognized the bulky armored shape climbing down from inside. “Be right back,” she told Preston, ducking out of his embrace and jogging towards Paladin Danse. The Paladin saw her approaching and waited for her beside the bird.

“What a fuckin’ show!” Edun crowed as she drew near, throwing her hands up like a showman. “I could have charged for admission!”

“Brotherhood resources are not toys for entertainment,” Danse said crisply, but Edun threw her arms around his armored body and he seemed to soften just a smidge.

“I owe you one,” Edun grinned, stepping back, but turning more seriously. “Seriously, though, thank you. If things had gotten ugly, it would have been  _ really  _ ugly. I was afraid for my people.”

“It isn’t without a price,” Danse sighed. “Elder Maxson approved the assault, but he was very clear on one thing. He ordered me to tell you that we aren’t a personal contingent you can call upon as you wish. For this  _ alliance  _ of goals to work, you need to offer us more. He demands to know what you know about getting into the Institute, and insists we move forward on our plans immediately. Otherwise, he will pull all support and continue independently of you.”

“Well isn’t he a little crabcake,” Edun said mildly. She told Danse about the Memory Den, and Kellogg’s memories. She explained that in order to move forward, they would have to scour the Glowing Sea for the missing Virgil. “He’s our only chance at acquiring the technology we need to build a teleporter,” she finished. “I was actually planning on asking you if you and your lovely armor would accompany me. There’s a lot of radiation out there, and you’re the biggest and scariest escort I could ask for.” 

Danse looked thoughtful. “Do you have a set of power armor, or are you planning to drug yourself into oblivion on Rad-X and RadAway?” He asked.

“I have one,” she answered, gesturing vaguely at the old rustbucket she’d found in Concord, where it stood beside her house. Danse took one look at it and flinched, actually  _ flinched,  _ before shaking his head violently.

“That is  _ hardly _ the proper equipment for such a venture. Edun, with all due respect, sometimes I find it nothing short of miraculous you are still alive. No, the Brotherhood will provide you a proper suit. We have an extra set on the Prydwen.” He gave her a disgusted look when he saw her expression. “And no, it is not  _ yours.  _ It is a loaner. Unless,” he added with a small smile, “You’d like to officially enlist after all.”

“Pass,” she said with an eye roll. 

Danse sighed. “We need to leave  _ now _ . Elder Maxson has run entirely out of patience with this whole debacle.”

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute. I need to collect my guns, smooch Preston, and grab my dog. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

If Danse had any problem with her to-do list, he didn’t voice it, and Edun rushed off. Apparently she was going to the Glowing Sea. Looked like she would be missing dinner...again. Not that she was sad. She’d seen a suspicious bundle of carrots on Mama’s counter.


	25. Fatherly Duties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danse and Edun bonding time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed by now, I try to make the difficult speech checks a little more... believable. Edun is a charismatic person who is as good at fenagling her way out of things with speech as she is with a gun.  
> \---------------------------------------------

“Are you trying to alert every single creature in the vicinity to our presence?” Danse’s helmet did nothing to hide his tone. He sounded like a tired parent turning around to yell at his children in the back seat for the umpteenth time, threatening to turn the car around and cancel the trip to Nuka World. Edun looked up from her innocent jetpacking. She’d never been in suit of power armor that had a jetpack, and rather than walk like a normal biped, she was treating herself to 5-10 foot long leaps across the irradiated earth. Danse might disapprove, but Dogmeat thought it was absolutely wonderful. He made a game of racing her to each landing point, tongue lolling. Edun had figured out long ago that for some mysterious reason, radiation didn’t affect the dog. It was something she added to the list of Mysteries About Dogmeat. Right up there with,  _ where the hell did he come from _ and _what_ _ shenanigans has he gotten up to with Nick. _ The dog was a complete enigma, and Edun had stopped giving herself a headache over it some time ago.

“What is the point of wearing this stuff if you can’t  _ enjoy  _ the experience?” She asked, giving the jet a little goosing for emphasis. 

“Superior firepower and protection in battle. Greater strength against the enemy. Prevention of limbs being severed. Less of a chance that you will become a Deathclaw's dinner,” Danse responded, his voice dry and somewhat amused. He might act like a humorless statue, but Edun wasn’t buying it any longer. She saw him smile one time. True story. Let them write  _ that _ in the history books.

So far, they’d bumped into some ghouls and a flock...herd? Murder? Of radscorpions. Actually no, scratch all that, if there was ever a name for a group of radscorpions it should be  _ scuttle.  _ They bumped into a  _ scuttle  _ of radscorpions. It hadn’t been anything they couldn’t handle, but as fast as those creepy crawlies moved, she was  _ very  _ grateful for the jetpack. When the first one had popped up out of the ground beneath her, stinger brandished, she’d let out a very loud shriek and immediately jetpacked the fuck out of there. It had worked out pretty well, because when she landed again the enormous weight of the power armor smashed the giant insect as was proper. She then made a game of jetpacking and smashing the rest of them, and by the end of it Danse wasn’t even bothering to shoot at them. He stood on the hill, gauntleted fists on his steel hips, and watched her play wasteland bumper cars.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Danse queried as they trudged up a steep hill. Edun was forcing herself to walk. Boring.

“Of course, what’s on your mind?” she asked.

“What are your thoughts on Scribe Haylen?”

“I’m...hardly the right person to give you a review, but...she’s pretty awesome.”

“That’s... not particularly detailed,” Danse sighed.

“Danse, what is this really about? You’re being a little weird.” He was clearly hedging, not sure how to approach the topic that was on his mind.

“Sorry,” Danse sighed. “I’m not...good at these sorts of conversations, so I typically avoid them as much as possible.”

“There is no better place to spill your guts than in the middle of the Glowing Sea. Hey, that’s almost a joke. Because of all the nasty creatures. Get it?”

“Yes, Edun. I get it. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Nooo, tell me. I’ll stop being silly. Tell me, what’s going on with Haylen?” She dropped the light tone, knowing it was hard for him to open up like this.

“The truth is...I’m worried about her. I thought maybe...I could get your honest opinion. A few months before you found us, one of my men was grievously wounded by raiders. Haylen stayed by that knight’s side for two days. She didn’t sleep, she barely ate...she fought desperately to keep him alive. But he was on a slow decline, and I finally made the decision we needed to end his suffering. I ordered Haylen to administer a lethal dose of the painkillers, so he could die with dignity.” He paused as they crested the hill, sweeping the area before them with his rifle, before continuing forward. “Even though I’m certain Haylen wanted to continue fighting for his life, she injected him without question.”

“I’m sorry. That was a hard call to make.” Edun couldn’t imagine being in that situation. What if it were Preston?

“It was the right one, though. I am confident in my decision. Even if by some miracle he happened to survive, he would have been paralyzed for life. But the decision whether or not to ease my soldier’s suffering is not the point here,” Danse explained. “The point is what happened later that same evening. Haylen approached me while I was on watch. She didn’t say a word, but I could tell something was wrong. After what felt like an eternity, she just...fell into my arms, sobbing. I didn’t know what else to do. I held her for a while, until she stopped. She kissed me on the cheek, said ‘thank you’, and went back inside. Right then, it hit me. Maybe I’d pushed her too hard. I  _ ordered _ her to ignore her instincts. To do something her medical training told her was  _ wrong. _ That’s why I’m worried about her. And for that matter, everyone under my command.”

“This isn’t about Haylen,” Edun observed softly. “This is about you.”

“I...suppose you’re right,” he agreed. “Look, four soldiers... _ over half my team _ ...are gone. Each one of them died because of decisions  _ I _ made. I understand the risks that come with the job. We all do. But how can anyone have confidence in me anymore? Hell, how can I have confidence in myself?” 

“Your people care about you, Danse,” Edun asserted. “The way you held Haylen when she needed it is proof of that. She knew she could go to you, and you responded to her pain. You will never be so perfect a leader that death never happens on your watch. It is inevitable. When you and I first met, you told me you’d been under constant fire since arriving in the Commonwealth. With those kind of odds stacked against you and your team, it was a numbers game. A cruel and inevitable one. Don’t doubt  _ yourself _ . You are a good man, and your team would do anything for you...just as you would for them.”

“I hadn’t...thought about it that way,” he mused.

“I think it’s natural for any half-decent leader to blame themselves for these things, and chalk them up as failures. But they aren’t failures. They’re just part of the hard life we choose as soldiers.” 

“Thank you,” Danse said. “For...taking the time to listen. I know you’ve got plenty of your own troubles. I am only sorry you are seeing me at my worst instead of my best.”

“This is your  _ worst? _ Oh Danse, you big teddy bear.” 

Their conversation died away as the glow in the distance slowly solidified, and Edun realized they were approaching a crater.  _ Holy shit. THE crater.  _ They were standing in the middle of fucking ground zero, and this crater was where the bomb had hit. She’d seen it from the vault platform, watched the shock wave tear through the landscape. She realized her heart was beating a rather frantic rhythm in her chest. She could feel the pulse of it in her teeth.

“Are you alright?” She heard Danse ask from far away. 

“...Yeah,” she managed to get out, finding her voice again. “Just...shit. This is where it hit. Right here.”

At the edge of the crater, they looked down. There were  _ houses  _ down here. Well, sort of houses. Shacks, really. From the looks of them, made from scrap dragged in from the surrounding waste. The bottom of the crater was a molten pool of radioactive goo, and Edun could only imagine what standing near it would do to a normal person. She recognized the people milling about below.  _ Children of Atom. _

“They’d fucking better not have pamphlets,” she muttered to herself. She saw Danse turn his helmet, trying to hear what she’d said, but he wouldn’t get the joke. He hadn’t been alive during the time of door-to-door weirdos. Dogmeat, bored with their hesitation, trotted down the slope and forced Edun to reluctantly follow. People turned to look at them as Edun balanced on the narrow walkway over the goo. She wondered what it was about Children of Atom that left them seemingly immune to radiation. Sure, they looked like shit - hollow eyed and a little green around the gills, maybe, but...not dead and not ghouls. Besides, looking like shit was what most of the residents of the Commonwealth did best. She also wondered where the hell they got all the colanders. For some reason each of them seemed to be wearing one strapped to their chest, over the ratty brown robes. Did their religion worship pasta as well? God, what she wouldn’t give for a big plate of penne with pesto from Jeveli’s. 

Dogmeat seemed to be leading them to a woman who stood alone in a shack at the end of the path. The woman watched them approach, but held up a hand to halt them on the walkway.

“Stop, strangers. You approach Atom’s holy ground. State your purpose, or be divided in his sight.”  _ Was that how they threatened to kill you?  _

“I’m looking for someone,” Edun replied. “I’m hoping you folks might have seen him pass through here recently. Brian Virgil? Probably wore, uh, glasses and a white coat.”  _ That’s what scientists always wore, right?  _

“Yes...we know of this Virgil.” She crossed her arms, suspicious. “What do you want with him?”

“I’m carrying his unborn child and he skipped out on me. I’m here to demand he step up to his fatherly duties.” Bless the power suit for hiding her face. Behind her, Danse choked.

“You would...remove him from this place?”

“That’s the plan. The crib isn’t going to build itself.”

She frowned. “In truth, this Virgil of yours has caused some concern. Some believe his presence here is an affront to Atom.”

“Tell me about it. His presence was an affront to me, too. Probably why he left me. But, here I am.” More strangled noises from Danse.

She nodded sympathetically. “You can find him southwest of the crater, living in a cave. I would approach him carefully if I were you, lest he run from you again.” 

“Thank you,” Edun gushed. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.” She turned to leave, and the woman called out to her as they made their way back down the path.

“May Atom bless your child, and let you be divided from Virgil no more.” 

At the top of the crater, Danse bent over slightly and made some terrible wheezing noises that sounded suspiciously like concealed laughter.

“What?” Edun asked mock-primly. “Sometimes the easiest route is the first one that comes to mind.”

“You are...Something else,” Danse wheezed. “I’m almost crying in my damn helmet.”

“There’s no need to get emotional, Danse. We’ll get my husband Virgil back and make him raise his son right.”

More wheezing.

  
  


-

Edun spotted the cave first, and stomped forward with alternating bursts from the jetpack, Danse be damned. She stopped at the bottom of the slope, beside an old car, and turned to Danse.

“Bet you twenty caps it’s this one,” she said smugly. The Child of Atom had neglected to mention there were actually a  _ few  _ caves out along this range. The first one had been small, roughly the size of a tool shed, and empty. The second one had been populated by a rather unpleasant radscorpion guarding a nest of eggs. This one had to be it. How many goddamn caves could there be?

“Edun!” Danse yelled.

“What? It probably is! Maybe.” 

“EDUN!” He thundered, making her flinch. “MOVE. TOWARDS ME. _NOW.”_ He had his rifle up and pointing towards her.

That was when she got the distinct feeling that something was behind her. She turned in what felt like slow motion but probably wasn’t, and looked at the white belly of a deathclaw standing on its hind legs.  _ When in doubt, jetpack it out _ . She activated the pack, surging forward towards Danse and as far from the creature as possible. Danse opened fire, and as soon as Edun was standing on solid ground she whipped around to join in. She had never seen a Deathclaw. To be fair, she’d only seen  _ one  _ Deathclaw, and she’d rather not see a second one, but it was too late for that. She was fairly sure albino Deathclaws were not the norm, though. In its own way, the reptilian creature was beautiful. It was entirely white, even the horns that sloped forward in graceful twists. Whereas the first Deathclaw she had seen had tawny orange eyes, this one had red eyes - the lids surrounding them were pink in hue, giving the beast a somewhat bloody and demonic appearance. 

Blood from where their laser rounds hit stood out starkly against the white hide, and it let out a furious roar as it charged towards them. It shoved the ruined car before it to the side, flipping it like a nylon lawn chair.  _ Gulp.  _ She strafed to the left and Danse went right. Together they only made one big target, and it was better to split and divide its attention. The Deathclaw must have preferred Danse’s lovely paint job, because it chose to follow him - the enormous head swinging as it tracked his movements. Edun had never wished for a Fat Man so much in all her life, but the laser rifle would have to do. She laid down a relentless barrage of fire, yelling as the Deathclaw closed the gap to Danse and raked his armor viciously with one clawed hand. Somehow, Danse managed to remain standing, though the blow clearly staggered him. 

“Hey! Hey, you big ugly fucking turducken!” Edun screamed, directing her fire at the thing’s head. “Yeah, you! Come here! You don’t want him! I taste like strawberry ice cream!” The second sweep  _ did  _ knock Danse over, and he went flying back several feet, thudding into a small dirt hill. The Deathclaw twisted towards her, long claws digging into the dirt as it rushed her. She waited until it was close, then activated her jetpack, launching herself into the air. She used her thrust to spin around, and fired down on the creature as it’s claws grabbed at air. She let herself drop like a stone, and felt something snap beneath the enormous armored boots when she landed on the Deathclaw’s back. It let out something that was half roar, half scream, and writhed beneath her- clawing at her with those awful white talons. She could see its range of movement was seriously impaired, and jetted out of reach - firing on it once more. A second steam of laser fire streaked through the air, and Edun was relieved to see Danse was back on his feet and rejoining the fight. 

She held up a hand, ceasing her fire, and Danse lowered his rifle as well. The Deathclaw was unmoving, jaw gaped open and blood staining the earth beneath.

“Holy shit, I damn near stepped on that thing before you warned me,” she gasped. 

“What did you call it? A...turducken?” Danse asked. 

“Something far more horrifying than a Deathclaw. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get into that cave before any more of these unpleasant things come after us.” 

He brooked no argument as he followed her into the cave and down the steep incline. Edun switched on her light just in time to watch Dogmeat joyously crash through a series of noise alarms hanging in the next doorway, tin cans tied to lengths of chain banging and clanging loudly.  _ Well, if Virgil is here, he’s sure as shit awake now. Thanks, buddy.  _

“Who’s there!?” A voice called from beyond. Edun froze, recognizing the dulcet tones of a super mutant. They all sounded the same - rough, throaty, deep - vocal chords forever altered by the FEV and their unnaturally enormous size. She halted and brought up her rifle, and sure as shit an enormous green mutant rounded the corner and faced her, the chains still swinging between them. Edun started at the mutant.

“A white coat and glasses,” she whispered to herself.

“Tell me who you are or I’ll shoot!” The mutant snarled, training his rifle on Edun and Danse. “Did Kellogg send you to finish me off?” She heard Danse responding, but stopped him.

“Wait,” she hissed. The mutant was wearing what appeared to be a mix of some kind of uniform with the Institute insignia on it, poorly spliced with pieces of a white lab coat. Balanced precariously on the enormous nose was a pair of little round spectacles. The effect was absolutely hysterical, but Edun didn’t dare laugh. “Kellogg didn’t send us. Kellogg is dead. I should know, I killed him,” she told the mutant, lowering her gun. “And if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say... _ You _ are Doctor Brian Virgil, the defected scientist. You’re a lot...bigger than I expected.”

Virgil peered at her suspiciously, but seeing her willingly disarming, he lowered his rifle as well. “How do I know this isn’t some trick?” 

“It was thanks to Kellogg I found you. Or, rather, his brain implant,” she explained. She gave a brief rundown of how she had delved into Kellogg’s memories and found the information on Virgil.

“You were rather determined, I see,” Virgil commended, relaxing further. “I don’t understand what I have to do with any of this.”

“I need into the Institute, and it sounds like you’re my best bet. You’re the only one in the Commonwealth who knows how the teleporter works.”

“Excuse me, but...are you fucking crazy?” Virgil said incredulously, glasses wobbling precariously on his nose as he shook his head violently. “Even if I  _ could  _ get you inside...they would kill you on sight. Nobody messes with the Institute and lives to talk about it.”

Edun sighed. “The risk I take on is mine to accept. They stole a baby. A baby I swore to protect. I need to get him back, and I will do everything possible to make that happen.”

“Oh,” Virgil softened visibly. “Oh, no. Yeah...I’ve heard stories of them doing that. But listen...If I help you, then maybe you can help me.”

“Need someone to scratch your back? Danse can do that,” Edun quipped.

Virgil cast a wary eye on her. “No. Thank you. If I help you get into the Institute, I need you to try and recover an experimental serum from my old lab. Without it, I’m stuck like this. That serum is the only chance I have of reversing the effects of the FEV.”

“Maybe you should not have played God to begin with,” Danse growled from his position behind her. “There is a certain irony to a man creating abominations and becoming one himself.”

“I see you brought one of the Brotherhood, with you, as though I weren’t in enough danger,” Virgil said with disapproval.

“He’s harmless. He’s actually quite cuddly. So, you help me break into the Institute and I get you a magic serum. Assuming I don’t die horribly, it sounds easy enough. You’ve got a deal.”

Virgil nodded, pleased. “Excellent. The first thing you will need to do is acquire a Courser chip. Have you ever encountered a Courser?”

“I don’t think so,” Edun mused. “What is it?”

“A very deadly weapon. The Institute’s hands aboveground. Synths who have incredible combat abilities and are indecipherable from a normal human.”

“Do they...wear dark glasses and long leather coats?” Edun asked, remembering something.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. The glasses teetered. “Yes. That is their typical uniform of choice. I am guessing you  _ have  _ encountered one, then.”

“Only in Kellogg’s memories, fortunately,” Edun replied. “So, I find a Courser and dig out it’s chip thing. Then what?”

“Then you’ll have to find someone to help you decode it. I don’t have any kind of equipment here that would be of use. After you find the Courser, and assuming you don’t die, return here. While you are gone I will draw up the best molecular relay schematics I can. It wasn’t...my field of expertise, but I should be able to come up with a decent enough amalgamation of it.”

Edun raised her hand. “One more question, teach. How exactly do I find a Courser?”

“I’m not sure  _ exactly  _ where you can find one. They haven’t sent any after me, and sitting here waiting doesn’t seem like a good plan. I can tell you where to start, and give you some help finding one, but the rest will be up to you.”

“It usually is,” Edun commented. 

“The primary insertion point for Coursers is in the ruins of CIT, directly above the Institute. So you’ll want to head there. You’re going to need that,” he pointed at her pip boy. “The relay causes some pretty heavy interference all across the EM spectrum. You’ve got a radio on that pip boy, right?”

“Plays all the top hits,” Edun acknowledged.

“When you get to the ruins, tune in to the lower end of the band and listen in. You’ll be able to hear the interference. Follow the signal, and it’ll lead you to a Courser. Then you just have to...not get killed.”

“That’s one of my finest skills,” Edun bowed. It was awkward to do in 1000 lbs of armor.

“I’m not gonna lie, the odds aren’t in your favor here,” Virgil cautioned. “But if you do make it...Remember what I said about the serum. I need it, badly.” 

“Don’t sweat it, Virg. I always keep my promises. If I make it out alive, you’ll get your serum.”


	26. Written in the Genetic Code

**Guys. I screwed up and missed posting my favorite chapter. I am so sorry. I've posted too many things, so... I'm going to insert it here, after Fatherly Duties since that is where it was supposed to go. UGHHH.**

After Danse strongly suggesting that they see Elder Maxson for a debriefing - multiple suggestions, actually - Edun agreed. It was time to pay up her dues as Consultant. The best part about having Danse as a pal was the vertibird rides, and sure enough, at the edge of the Glowing Sea, their ride awaited. Edun was somewhat relieved to have an end in sight on her having to wear the power armor. She felt like a cat who’d eaten _ten_ canaries, lumbering about in it. Besides, she couldn’t feel Dogmeat’s fur against her fingers, and that fact displeased her more than anything. She took back all her desire to steal Danse’s suit or this suit. She preferred her actual feet touching the ground.

“This is really happening,” She said, clutching the rail as the vertibird shifted amidst turbulence. “We actually met someone _from_ the Institute. We almost have a way in.”

“I wouldn’t marginalize the threat this Courser poses,” Danse cautioned. “If a former member of the Institute is all but certain of your imminent death, that is not something to take lightly.”

“Good thing I have you, then, huh?” She grinned at him. 

He nodded, a half-smile on his lips. “Good thing.”

She _liked_ Danse. He was genuine and heartfelt. Though he could be a little stiff and overly proper, the more time he spent with her the more he loosened up. Shit, he’d even laughed at her horrible prank. She’d never expected _that._ Not from him. Being a soldier in itself did not make someone so standoffish. Being a soldier _and_ pulling away from all attempts at friendship sure did, though. She understood his reasons. It was natural to want to withdraw. Human instinct demanded that when you were hurt, you curled up into a ball around the thing that ached. On a smaller scale, that was pressing your hand to an injury. On a bigger scale, that was isolating yourself because _being human_ hurt. It was inevitable.

Friendship was vital. _Especially_ in a military setting. You had to have a reason to wake up in the morning. A reason to hop out of that vertibird and into the battlefield day in and day out. And when you were hurt...whether on the outside or the inside...you _needed_ people in your corner. It was about more than someone slapping a bandage on or injecting you with a stim. The real healing began when people loved you, supported you, and watched your back above all else. Camaraderie was fundamental to survival. Family was well and good, and some soldiers chose to have them…but there were none who could understand you like your brothers and sisters in arms. He’d been doubting himself, been so unkind to himself...So lost in his own personal critique he hadn’t seen how much his team cared. Hadn’t recognized that same emotion in himself. She hoped he did, now. 

They chatted throughout the flight, mostly small talk, until the vertibird began to climb in altitude over the Boston airport. The clamps locked on, the bird jostled as it engaged, and per the usual Dogmeat led the charge. He hopped onto the flight deck and trotted away, looking over his shoulder as if to say, _hurry up, slowpokes._ They had just missed a radstorm. The ominous clouds were beating a retreat, and with the air clearing Edun knew the sunset would be another spectacular one. Something about all the irradiated air made for some truly lovely displays in the Commonwealth. She followed Danse up the stairs and into the great ship. She could see Elder Maxson pacing in the viewing room, looking out at the storm. His hands were, as usual, clasped behind his back. _Did his shoulders ever get tired?_

He turned at the sound of their hulking armor thudding on the corrugated floor, and Edun could see he was mildly irritated. Judging from the urgency with which Danse had whisked her away to the Glowing Sea, no doubt he had a tirade he wanted to unleash on her. Higher ups were always doing that. They were really quite liberal with the sharing of feelings. It showed real growth. 

Danse stopped and stood at attention, his body rigid. “Ad Victoriam, Elder.”

“Ad Victoriam, Paladin Danse. Edun.” He returned the fist-to-chest salute before turning to Edun. “I hope you found something in the Glowing Sea that made the fracas with the Gunners worthwhile. I do not appreciate my men being dragged out on errands as they suit you.” 

Edun was mildly surprised. “I would think wiping them out was mutually beneficial. I _know_ you have little respect for mercenaries, and with them gone the people of the Commonwealth are safer.”

“Men who believe in no cause but caps are not men to be trusted,” Maxson agreed. “But we are not here to discuss philosophy on mercenaries. What did you _find?”_

“We _found_ an ex-Institute scientist,” Edun answered, silently willing Danse to keep his lips zipped on the big and green aspect. “He was willing to help. He has set us on a path to accessing the Institute. All we need to do is find an Institute Courser, take the chip from inside it's head, get the chip decoded,” she ticked off the to-dos in her fingers, laying it all out for Maxson. 

“Incredible,” Maxson said, his cool exterior faltering for a moment as he considered the possibilities. His eyes shone with the same intensity Danse’s did when he got misty-eyed over Brotherhood values. “I did not expect our sojourn to the Commonwealth to bear fruit so quickly. Naturally, Danse will remain at your disposal for your mission to locate the Courser and take its chip. There is no finer soldier in my ranks." Danse puffed with pride a little at that. “You have proven to be a capable team. As for decoding the chip...I’m afraid our scientists know absolutely nothing about Institute technology. With the exception of collecting the remains of Gen 2 models at ArcJet, we have never been able to obtain anything to study. I do not believe we could be of any help in that regard. You will have to seek out other means. Keep us appraised of what you turn up. As for constructing this...molecular relay, I believe Proctor Ingram may be of use. We will wait until she can properly analyze the blueprints.”

He turned from them, moving back to the window. “You have done well. It would seem your position as…Consultant...has indeed paid off. For both of us. While your methods are unconventional and at times...questionable, you get the job done. We will stand by and await your next update. You are dismissed.”

She could see by the look on Danse’s face he was a little stunned at how easily they were getting off, and she wasn’t one to look gift horses in the mouth. She turned and left. Danse saluted one more time, a stickler for that shit, and followed her out. She wanted to get out of this clunky power armor, find some dinner, and then maybe throw back a beer or two. If she was going to face down some death-dealing Institute demon, she might as well make hay before the sun stopped shining.

“Want to grab some chow?” She asked, wandering in the direction of the armor work stations. He rumbled an assent. Ingram raised her eyebrows to mid-forehead from across the room when she saw the long claw marks striating over Danse’s suit, but made no comment as they climbed out of their armor and headed off towards the mess hall. There would be time later to bother with cleaning up the suits, if Ingram didn’t beat them to it out of sheer overachieving. Ingram was fun. Edun hadn’t had a whole lot of interaction with her, but what she had seen gave her an impression of a solid woman with a sense of humor akin to Edun’s. She was a peppery little redhead. Like Cait, but...much less sharp on all the corners. She had lost her legs in combat some time ago, and got around easily in a custom-fitted power armor frame. It was pretty ingenious of her.

Edun noticed the soldiers aboard the Prydwen, with the exception of Haylen and Rhys, all deferred to Danse with great respect, but kept their distance. No doubt a condition borne of Danse’s self-imposed isolation. They parted before Edun and Danse, heads nodding, respectful ‘Paladin’s uttered. It was the loneliest damn thing Edun had ever seen. They sat down at one of the small metal tables, their trays nearly taking up the entire surface area. Danse looked uncomfortable, and whether that was from his size vs. the small chair or something else, Edun couldn’t say. She cracked open her dinner beer and took a long swig.

“Are we even off duty?” Danse asked somewhat reproachfully, digging into his meal. It was some sort of meat patty and mash. Potatoes, maybe. 

“I’m never _on_ duty, remember? Consultant. Consultants get beer.”

He rolled his eyes. “It hardly seems to be the time for inebriation, with the Elder watching our every move. He might have been lenient today, but we are likely still on thin ice. He expects results.”

“Stop worrying about him and finish your dinner,” Edun said. “I have an idea.” 

They ate in silence, tension in the air as Danse no doubt tried to figure out what she was up to. He was a man who liked to plan every second, and Edun could relate. She’d been more like that in a time that felt years ago. Was, technically. But the more time she spent in the new Commonwealth, the more relaxed she became. No more mental file folders or bullet points. Just living.

When they’d finished their meals and returned the metal trays to their final resting places, Edun bought 8 more beers and tucked them carefully in her pack, the brown bottles clinking merrily. Hopefully none of them broke. That would be a tragedy.

“Edun,” Danse’s voice was foreboding as he followed her through the ship, “ _What_ are you doing?” 

“Stop being such a stormcloud. You’re drawing attention to us.” She moved to the side as a knight in full armor and two scribes passed them in the corridor. She waited for a moment, and when it seemed like nobody was around to pry, she hustled over to the Forecastle’s access door and pushed it open. Wind whipped around her as it swung wide, and she stepped out onto the metal platform. Danse stepped through after her, looking around and frowning.

“What exactly are you planning to do out here?” he demanded. 

“ _We_ are going to have some beers and watch the sun go down,” she informed him, sitting at the ledge and swinging her legs over the side.

“You could fall. This is ridiculous, Edun.” 

She answered with a smirk and patted the grating beside her, indicating for him to join her. Danse shot a look to the heavens, as though pleading for assistance, before sitting down beside her and allowing his combat boots to dangle beside hers. He could pretend all he wanted, but she knew he was secretly enjoying the change in routine. He was enjoying having a _friend_. Her not being an official Brotherhood participant meant there were no lines in the sand to worry about. He wasn’t her superior officer, she wasn’t his subordinate. They were equals, clear of red tape and proprieties. There was freedom in that.

She pulled a beer out for each of them, twisting the top from hers and giving it a swig. Danse looked at his for a moment, seeming almost unsure what to do with it.

“You drink it,” she said helpfully, miming. “Make you strong.”

“I haven’t had a beer since Cutler,” he answered in a soft voice.

“Not even one?” Edun asked, shocked. Most people seemed to gravitate to...well, drowning their sorrows.

“Not even one,” he replied, shaking his head. “Someone once told me...never drink when you’re sad or angry. I suppose I was sad and angry for so long I just...fell out of the habit.”

“Are you sad or angry now?” she asked, her voice concerned. He turned to look at her, a funny expression on his face, before he twisted the top from his beer in one deft motion.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, looking at the open bottle. “I think this is the first time I’ve been happy in years.” And with that, he took a long swig of the beer.

They sat close enough their arms touched. His enormous frame might have been part of the reason. He took up half the damn Forecastle with those arms alone. But still, the contact was nice. Edun leaned against him, resting her head against his thick shoulder, and felt him give way a little under the pressure. He _relaxed._ By their second beers, the sky had begun to turn golden and coral. By the third, orange and vermillion had joined in. It was, as Edun expected it would be, a _spectacular_ sunset.

“Danse,” she asked at last, the alcohol softening her tongue enough to broach the subject, “Do you really believe _all_ the hullabaloo about...killing ghouls and...all synths needing to be destroyed? Because that’s...Oof.”

“The Brotherhood ideals...are clear, and they have...their reasons for them.” He was slurring his words. ‘Reasons’ sounded more like ‘Reashinsh.’ Clearly he’d lost his tolerance for alcohol during his time of abstaining.

“What if I was a synth?” she persisted. Stars were beginning to make their appearance at the edges of the color show, where the sky promised midnight blue. “Would you shoot me?”

“You’re not a synth,” Danse growled, putting his arm around her and pulling her into a drunken hug. “You’re a pain in my ass, but you’re definitely...not a synth.”

She giggled, cheeks warm. “Maybe we’re both synths. The most badass synths the Institute ever made. Sent to destroy beers.”

“Ad Victoriam,” Danse responded. They clinked their fourth beers together and watched the last bit of sun slip behind the ragged Boston skyline.

-

Greenetech Genetics was an absolute mess. Gunners were crawling throughout the building, apparently hunting someone or some _thing_ as well. They took one look at Edun’s scarred face and opened fire. It was expected, considering she was now their public enemy number one and her face was the flag she was recognized by. She’d dealt two massive blows to the organization over the last month, and they didn’t seem the forgiving types. Despite her whining, Danse had refused to budge until she agreed to climb into that goddamn power armor again, insisting she would need it. _Especially_ if this Courser was as formidable as it sounded to be. Once they ran into the Gunners, he even made her wear her helmet. This disgruntled her further, but Danse could be very persuasive when he was grumpy and nursing a hangover. 

As they cleared floor after floor, facing down a relentless tidal wave of pissed off Gunners, she had to admit Danse was right. She’d have at least a dozen new breathing holes by now if it weren’t for the hardened steel protecting her. Somehow, Dogmeat had an uncanny ability to stay out of trouble while simultaneously inciting violence. One moment he’d be behind them, eyes wide and innocent, and then the next he’d be ahead of them - chomping on an ankle here or there before darting away amidst ancient cubicles, leading furious Gunners towards them to be finished off. A voice came over the intercom as the two stomped their way up a makeshift ramp. 

_“...The Courser is on the third floor! Report! What the hell is going on down there?...”_

“Sounds like we came to the right place,” Edun said grimly as she blasted a Gunner in the face before he could finish throwing his grenade. The Courser had left a wake of destruction behind it, bodies lay over rails or in crumpled heaps along the walkways and halls. More Gunners were flooding into Greenetech, but their presence had not been without enormous casualties. Now they had the misfortune of being sandwiched between an Institute Courser and two fully suited up soldiers with a rather bitey dog in tow. Slowly but surely they worked their way up through the chaos, ducking and dodging and at times even resorting to hand-to-hand combat in the cramped confines of small offices.

They were at the bottom of a long flight of stairs when Edun heard voices somewhere near the top. 

“Tell me,” a hard, cold voice was saying.

“Oh, god, oh god,” a panicked voice moaned. “Okay! Okay! Just...don’t shoot. Let me think.” 

“You obviously don’t know,” the cold voice said. The sound of a gunshot rippled down the stairway to where Edun stood. She waited, listening. She wouldn’t be able to hear over the asinine clomping of this suit otherwise.

“I’m going to get in there. It’s just a matter of time,” the cold voice said to someone else. “ _Tell me the password._ ”

“Look, I already told you I don’t have it,” a deeper voice responded. This one wasn’t afraid. He had the clipped quality of a no-nonsense sort. A figure of authority, if Edun had to guess. “I’ll help you find a way in, but listen, we took the girl fair and square. All we want is a little compensation in return.” _So, they were haggling over a hostage._ What the hell were the Gunners doing with a girl? Usually they just shot at people for money. Well, with a hostage in tow, things changed a little. Edun began to ascend the stairs as quietly as she could. As she drew closer, the conversation continued. 

“I would think leaving here with your life would be compensation enough,” the cold voice responded. “How about you help me get into that room and I don’t blow out your kneecaps and leave you here to bleed to death.”

_He sounds nice,_ Edun thought apprehensively, tightening her grip on the combat shotgun. In such close quarters, slugs had been her preferred method of crowd control. RJ would have hated it here. Too enclosed, too much chaos. She paused in the doorway, and realized the voices had stilled as the occupants waited for her to make an appearance. She glanced over at Danse, who gave her a nod as if to say _I’ll follow your lead on this one._ She braced herself and entered the room, shotgun up and ready for a fight.

The first thing she saw was a pile of dead Gunners. Four, to be exact. They were left where they had fallen, arms and legs still bound. Only one remained, a Sergeant judging from his apparel. He was badly beaten, blood streaming from a contusion over one eye and making the rest of his battered face look like a fucked up Halloween mask. He was panting, knelt over on his knees. Leather cords were wrapped tightly about his arms, digging into the heavy muscle in a way that looked very painful. The Courser had been working him over for a few minutes, and not in a gentle fashion. The Gunner looked at her as she entered, only one eye open. He had the look of someone who was patiently waiting for death.

Standing over him was the Courser. Edun didn’t even question the thought. He was dressed exactly the same as the X6-88 from Kellogg’s memory. The Courser was male, maybe 6’ tall and well-built. He wore a long black leather coat, black gloves, black pants, black boots, and thick dark shades. Johnny Cash would have wept with pleasure at seeing the ensemble. The Courser did not react as she expected he would. He merely turned to her as though bored, eyeing the hulking figures that had interrupted his interrogation for a moment before speaking.

“You’ve been following me,” he stated, tossing aside the wrench he was holding in one hand and resuming his grip on the Institute rifle he carried. Edun noted with some distaste that the wrench was covered in blood and matched the contusions on the kneeling Gunner. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

Edun considered him for a moment before unlatching her helmet and removing it. Behind her, Danse made a sound of alarm and she heard him shift positions to better guard her. The Courser, to her surprise, lowered his rifle as soon as he got a look at her face.

“So, it’s _you_. How interesting.”

“Have we met?” Edun asked, tilting her head. “I’m pretty sure we haven’t. I’d remember that much tall dark and murdery.”

“That is not a discussion I can take part in,” the Courser answered. “What are you doing...here? _What_ do you want?” 

“ _‘Not a discussion you can take part in’_? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Edun was genuinely confused. She’d expected this big scary Courser to try to remove her head on sight, and this turn of events had left her on unsteady footing.

The Courser refused to answer her, only shaking his head and repeating, “What do you want?” 

Edun wasn’t going to waste time going back and forth with the infernal synth. Whatever was going on, she’d puzzle it out later. “I’m here for that chip in your head,” she answered.

The Courser tensed, and it was as though he were warring with himself over something. He raised his rifle, then lowered it again, face turned to look at it as though weighing his options. She wondered what was going on behind those dark glasses. He let his rifle drop further, hanging at his side and the muzzle pointing directly at the ground. Then the Courser raised his chin in a decidedly resigned manner and looked at her.

“Then take it,” his voice had lost none of its coldness, none of the aloof quality that practically screamed _you are beneath me._

“Come again?” Edun was a slow learner sometimes.

“I said take it,” the words were concise, spaced, as though he were speaking to a child who was hard of hearing. 

Edun found herself suddenly reluctant. It was one thing to shoot at people who were shooting at you. Shooting someone who was unwilling to fight...who stood before her with no emotion, waiting for the bullet to strike...that felt wrong. Very wrong. It felt like cold blooded murder and Edun wasn’t to that stage of her Wasteland life yet. She lowered her shotgun, unsure of how to proceed.

Danse’s first shot hit the synth in his chest, the white-hot bolt of laser fire going through the black leather as though it were paper. The second shot missed, as the Courser vanished from sight with a derisive snarl on his lips. _Shit. He had stealth capabilities._ Edun reacted, bringing her shotgun to bear and sighting down the barrel, watching for the telltale ripples of bent light. There, by the elevator. She fired, racked the shotgun and fired again, walking towards the Courser as his stealth field failed. Danse was firing with abandon, laser rounds riddling the Courser’s body. The Courser did not return fire on Edun, but raised his arms and fired back at Danse. Edun blew out the Courser’s left elbow with a well-placed slug, and was rewarded by the awful sight of bloody tissue and shattered bone. His arm all but severed, the synth was forced to drop it and let it hang uselessly at his side. Still he did not attack Edun. He feinted to the right, but Danse followed him, backing the Courser into a corner. The Courser’s glasses were askew, but if Edun had expected some sort of freaky glowing eyes she was disappointed. Sharp, vivid blue eyes met hers in a gaze that turned her insides to ice. This Courser knew her, somehow. There was recognition and resignation in them. He was not going to fight back.

One of Danse’s rounds caught the Courser in the jugular, arterial spray arcing from the synth’s neck before he fell to the ground. Edun walked over to him, shotgun ready, though she doubted it mattered. The Courser held his good hand to the wound, blood pulsing out from between his fingers, his mouth moving as though he were trying to speak. Edun hit the release latch on her armor, stepping out of the bulk, and walked over to the dying man. She crouched low beside him despite Danse muttering a warning.

“Why didn’t you fight me?” She asked softly.

The Courser shook his head side to side. He wouldn’t last long. “Not...allowed. Not...my place. Orders.”

His cold and collected facade was gone. In his eyes, Edun saw something she knew well. Something so human it was part of her species’ genetic code. She’d seen it in the faces of a hundred soldiers before. Seen it in herself. _Fear_ . He was _afraid_ of death. Without realizing what she was doing or dwelling on the _why,_ Edun placed a comforting hand on the Courser’s chest.

“It’s okay,” she whispered to him. Something shifted in his eyes, the fear replaced by an emotion she could not name, and then the light went out of them and his hand went limp over the wound. He was gone.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Danse demanded from behind her. “That machine tried to kill me and you...I don’t even _know_ what you just did.”

“This _machine_ was afraid,” Edun said. “Doesn’t seem very machine-like to me.” She rose to her feet and wiped her bloodied hand against the leg of her BDUs. She heard a soft noise from behind the door the Courser had wanted to get into so badly. It sounded like someone crying. _The girl._ Edun walked over to the access terminal by the door, and after a few minutes of concentrating, she was in. The door shuttered open the moment she hit the command key. Edun stepped into the room and saw a young woman huddled in a corner, hands over her ears and her eyes squeezed shut. She was, Edun realized, waiting for the shot to come.

“Hey,” Edun gently, holding her hands out to show she was harmless. “I’m Edun. What’s your name?”

The woman could obviously hear despite the hands over her ears, for at Edun’s words she opened her eyes and looked up. Her cheeks were tear-stained. She must have been absolutely terrified. First being kidnapped by Gunners and locked in here, and then forced to sit and listen to the Courser torture and murder her captors just on the other side of the wall. She wiped at her cheeks before responding.

“My...Institute designation is K1-98. But I prefer Jenny. I’m...a synth, if you hadn’t already guessed,” she answered. Seeing Edun was not a threat, Jenny pushed herself to her feet. “I knew they’d send a Courser. I just...didn’t think he’d find me so fast. I think I would have lost him, too. But then I was captured by these...mercenaries, and all this happened.”

“Will you be alright?” Edun asked. “Do you need anything?”

Jenny shook her head. “No. I don’t need any more help. The Commonwealth is unforgiving. I need to learn to make it on my own or I’m dead. Thank you for getting me out of here,” she added. “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be me anymore.”

“Be careful out there,” Edun said, before standing aside. Jenny threw Danse a furtive look as she made her way out of the room and towards the now-powered up elevator. Once the doors closed behind her, Danse rounded on Edun.

“You just released that abomination into the Commonwealth. There is no telling what amount of damage it might do.” He was frustrated with her, his tone had a hard edge to it she’d never heard him use with her.

“Did she seem like a danger to you, Danse?” Edun put her fists on her hips and squared off. “Tell me, did that five-foot-nothing little girl scare you? Did you feel _endangered,_ tucked away in that fancy armor? Because unless she’s going to murder you with her tears, I’m pretty sure she’d not a danger to anyone.”

“That’s not the point!” Danse thundered, thoroughly angry with her now. “She shouldn’t exist. Who knows how many there are out there, synthetic beings just like her.”

“God forbid we have a population of scared and alone people at risk of being murdered by mercenaries or worse,” Edun said snidely. She jumped despite herself when Danse punched a hole in the wall next to him.

“The Brotherhood is clear on this,” he began.

Edun cut him off. “The _Brotherhood_ has never encountered anything like this. Maxson himself said they had no idea how anything Institute works. They’ve formed their opinions entirely on some busted remains at ArcJet and pure conjecture. Have any of you tin men ever had a discussion with a synth like Jenny? Talked to her? Decided for yourselves based on _reality_ what the correct course of action is?” Edun was good and mad now, her face hot. She loved Danse, really she did, but she was getting sick and fucking tired of this vitriol. “It’s easy to say, ‘the big bad Institute built it, therefore it’s just a machine.’ That Courser was _clearly_ more than a machine, and that _girl_ is clearly more than a machine. As far as I’m concerned, if it walks, talks, eats, sleeps, fucks, and experiences _emotions_ like a human… It is one.”

“They’re just programmed to do those things,” Danse protested, his voice losing some of its conviction.

“Do you know that for a fact or are you just parroting what others have told you?” Edun asked, folding her arms over her chest. “Unless you’re a scientist who specializes in advanced bioengineering or some shit, I’m not sure I can trust that opinion. _I_ know what I saw here.”

Danse did not answer, preferring to withdraw into sullen silence in his helmet. With an exasperated sigh, Edun turned back to the task still at hand. Removing a chip...from inside the dead Courser’s head. She was _definitely_ going to be sick. She dug through the various crates and containers in the room, settling at last on a long rusty crowbar and a knife she’d found on one of the Gunners. The Sergeant the Courser had been interrogating lay dead, caught in the crossfire of the fight. Edun wasn’t particularly sad about it. She approached the synth with her chosen tools and got down to the grisly task at hand. Danse watched silently as she did her best to crack the Courser’s skull with the crowbar before pulling out the knife.

“I don’t...want to fight with you...Danse,” she grunted as she prised at the fractured plates of the Courser’s skull. _Who the fuck ever chose to be a brain surgeon voluntarily?_ “I just want you to...think things through. For yourself.”

“I know,” he answered at last. “I think it’s best if we avoid this topic. It is clear we are...divided on the subject.”

Naturally, her nose decided to become itchy while her fingers were wiggling around in a dead guy’s brain and it was taking everything she had to keep breakfast down. She wiggled it frantically, willing the tickling sensation away. “If you don’t talk things out, you don’t grow,” she replied. “I’m sorry I got heated with you. I shouldn’t have.”

“You’re apologizing to the man who punched a wall,” Danse pointed out. Edun chuckled, then let out a cry as her fingers made contact with something definitely not organic tissue.

“Gotcha!” She exclaimed, before promptly throwing up last night’s beer and this morning’s egg substitute.


	27. Fuck the Freedom Trail

Edun had Danse drop her off in Goodneighbor. She needed to go see Doctor Amari about the chip. She hoped the woman might have some machinery that could help decode the information on it. When she marched into the Memory Den for a second time, Irma didn’t look up from the obvious romance novel she was reading. The cover sported artwork depicting a private eye and a blond woman locked in a passionate embrace, mouths open and shirts unbuttoned. Edun tried not to snicker, wondering if the novel had something to do with a certain synth Detective.

Amari looked up, surprise at seeing Edun again playing over her face.

“Ah, yes, Valentine’s friend. Did you find the child you were looking for?” she inquired politely.

“Not just yet,” Edun said. “That’s partly why I’m here. The Institute has him, and I am working on finding a way into the Institute. I’ve got a Courser chip here, and I--”

She was startled by Amari’s gasp. The woman took an actual step back from Edun as though she were riddled with plague. “You have a  _ what?”  _

“A Courser chip,” Edun repeated. “And I need it decrypted…”

“I cannot help you,” Amari objected, backing another step away. “And that is not something I want in my establishment. Just bringing it here could put me and everything I do at risk. You need to leave.”

“Doc, I don’t exactly have people who are experts on science things on speed dial,” Edun pleaded. “Is there nobody who can help me with this?”

Amari eyed her warily. “If you follow the Freedom Trail to its end, you will find someone who can help you. That is all I will say. Now please,  _ leave.  _ Before someone comes looking for you and that thing you carry.” 

“Now there’s an idea,” a gravelly voice came from the doorway. Edun turned, and saw Hancock standing in the door. “The Railroad is probably the best equipped to help her with this particular issue.”

“Not you, too,” Amari groaned. “The more people who know about this, the more in danger we all are. Get your friend out of here, Hancock,  _ shoo _ .” And she flapped her hands at them like a maid shooing children.

Edun followed Hancock out, not wanting to stress the woman any further. Outside of the Memory den, she turned to Hancock.

“The Railroad? Preston’s mentioned them before. Some kind of synth liberators?” She asked.

“Yeah. They help escape synths. Provide shelter, safe houses, resources. Amari here helps. She wipes them and gives them new memories.”

“Wait, she...erases their minds?” Edun asked, shocked.

Hancock shrugged. “The theory is it’s easier to hide if you don’t know you’re hiding. But yeah. She does.”

“Shit,” Edun breathed. “So I just...follow the Freedom Trail and they’ll turn up?”

“Fuck the Freedom Trail,” Hancock laughed. “I know where they are. I’ll take you.” 

“Don’t you have... _ mayoral _ duties?” 

He snorted. “This lot can survive just fine without me. Waddaya say, sunshine? A little road trip?”

“How are you in a firefight?” She asked, crossing her arms.

The ghoul chuckled. “What I can’t shoot tends to run away once they see my face.”

“You and me both. Fine, okay, grab whatever shit you need and let’s go. Time’s a wastin’.” _One more hot bath before you go,_ a voice whispered to her, but she ignored it. She wanted to get this shit over with. The longer she was away from Preston, the crabbier she was. At least she had Dogmeat this time.  “Suck it,” she told the dog. “You’re stuck with me this time. No Preston cuddles.”

“Okay then,” Hancock observed the interaction with amusement. “I’ll grab a few things from the state house and be right back. Ghouls pack light,” he added with a wink. She watched him walk away and wondered if this was a mistake. She fiddled with her radio.

“Hey, big P,” she said in her best imitation of Hancock.

_ “Hey sunshine,”  _ came a gravelly response. It was a terrible imitation.

“That’s awful. Don’t quit your day job.”

_ “I would never. How are you, honey?” _ Lord, but that last word threatened to undo her.

“I’m okay. Miss you. Sorry all this running around is taking so long.”

_ “Miss you too. I’m guessing you got a lead on decoding that chip?” _

“Yeah. Apparently I need to go see the Railroad. Hancock is going to take me. Says he knows where they are.”

_ “You know the drill. Be careful. Stay safe. Come home soon. Bring back my cuddlebuddy.” _

“Ugh, he’s  _ my  _ cuddlebuddy. You just stole him.”

_ “Whatever you have to tell yourself. I’m very cuddle-able.” _

“That you are. I could do with a big cup of that about now.”

_ “Sooner you get done, the sooner you can cuddle this prime male example.” _ Oh, Preston. If only he had an inkling of how true that was.

“I know,” she struggled to control the wobble in her voice. “I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

_ “Okay. Bye, honey.” _

“Bye Big P,” she answered in that gravelly voice again. She got a chuckle back, and then switched off the radio.

  
  


True to his word, Hancock didn’t take long. She didn’t doubt his pack was full of jet, liquor, and ammo...but that was his choice and she wasn’t about to get in the middle of it. Goodneighbor was in full afternoon swing as they walked through town. Traders were pitching their wares to Daisy, and more than a few drifters were already shitfaced and being tossed out of the Third Rail. They crossed to the gate and stepped out into the streets beyond.

“Look, it’s not a long walk, but there’s gonna be more than a few mutants between us and the Railroad,” the ghoul cautioned, eyeing her shotgun. “Might wanna switch to that pretty little laser rifle of yours. If the lasers don’t scare them off, the stink of the Brotherhood might.”

“Not a fan, I take it,” she asked as she switched weapons.

“Is anyone?” The ghoul asked. “But that’s rhetorical. I don’t tend to be a fan of anyone who wants to  _ put me out of my misery for my own good.  _ I’m the happiest guy in the Commonwealth, I’d rather not have that interrupted.”

“Don’t worry, pumpkin, you’ll be safe with me. I’ll protect you,” Edun grinned.

Hancock snorted and stretched his arms out to the heavens. “I am saved at last.”

He led her on what was essentially a zigzagging trail, claiming it was his own special route. At times they had to crawl under things, at times it required climbing through rubble. As he’d predicted, there were super mutants. The ugly brutes hid amongst the high buildings, waiting for new prey to wander past below. Edun was glad she’d swapped weapons. The shotgun was effective as hell against Gunners in close quarters, but out here she needed the range. She surprised herself in fights these days. She held her own. She’d had the best teachers, of course, but practice made perfect. In the wasteland, all you did was practice shooting before getting shot. Nobody was safe. Farmer? Raiders would burn your crops and peel your face off. Caravan? Mutants would take you and eat you with a side of biscuits. Minuteman? You were apparently a magnet for Deathclaws.

Here and there they crossed over the Freedom Trail, but otherwise he did not follow along it. She knew where they were. A little farther down was the King’s Chapel, one of Boston’s greatest landmarks and a favorite tourist stop. She found herself surprised when they reached the old chapel and Hancock stopped in front of it.

“What?” Edun asked, looking up at the crumbling brick building.

“This is it. I think.” The ghoul shrugged. “I knew where they hid out, but...I guess it’s gonna take some digging around inside.”

There was a lantern on the stoop, the oil wick burning brightly within. Painted on the wall to the right of the door in white was the crude shape of a lantern. Okay, she could take a hint. 

“Guess we’re going inside,” she said, leading the way. 

The church was pitch black. Beside her, Dogmeat kept up a low, steady growl. That was never a good sign. Edun blinked and switched on her light. She wished she hadn’t. The floor was littered with feral ghouls, and in response to someone bumbling into their lair, they began to rise from the floor with a rustling like dry leaves and the creaking of old bones. The silence was shattered by their groans and screeches as they began to stagger towards the group on joints and limbs long-stiff from their slumber.

As though bored, Hancock drew his pistol and began to fire on the ghouls. Edun joined in, and Dogmeat swished past her legs to stir up some shit. They pushed father into the little church, and Edun was firing on the ghouls high up on the balcony when something grabbed her from behind. It definitely wasn’t Hancock, because blinding pain erupted in her shoulder as the feral ghoul bit down on her hard enough to take a chunk of her away with it. The worn leather jacket she was wearing did nothing to stop the creature, giving way beneath the vicious teeth. She heard it happen as much as felt it, fire exploding where she’d been savaged. She let out a scream, spinning and only just catching the ghoul in time with her arms. The damn thing was snapping at her like a rabid animal at the end of a chain, grabbing and clawing at her. It caught a handful of her hair and yanked on it, and Edun let out an angry howl as she grappled with it and struggled to defend herself. She heard furious barking, and a ball of fur and red bandanna hurtled into the ghoul, driving it away from Edun. She fell back against the fall, panting, hand clutching at her wounded shoulder as Dogmeat twisted and leaped around and under the feral ghoul. Hancock, freeing himself up with a few more shots, turned on the feral ghoul and shot it between the eyes. It slumped to the floor, Edun’s blood smeared across its mouth in a freakish grin.

Hancock dropped down beside her and let out a low whistle as he looked her over. “That is gonna be one hell of a scar, sunshine,” he commented as he rummaged around in his pack, pulling out a purple syringe. Med-X.

“No,” Edun gasped, stilling his hand. “No chems. I don’t take them. Too addictive. Just give me a stimpack. Please.”

The irony of her statement to someone like Hancock wasn’t lost on her, but how could she explain? He hadn’t seen the way Nora looked at the end. Those eyes staring at her, empty, her gaunt body destroyed by chems and pills. Not to mention the way Cait got the shakes and sweats the moment she went too long without another hit. It scared the absolute shit out of Edun, and she hadn’t taken any chems since her tour in Alaska. Since... her recovery in the burn ward. They hadn’t really given her a choice, then. She’d been unconscious.

“Okay,” Hancock acquiesced, not batting an eye. He pulled out a stimpack instead and injected it just under her collarbone. The screaming nerves slowly quieted down to a soft Christmas carol, and Edun let her head fall back as Hancock put a sticky bandage over the injury. 

“I’m not judging you,” she said softly, feeling terrible. “It’s not that, I just...Can’t.”

“Sunshine, I haven’t wasted a second of my life worrying about what people think about me, and I ain’t about to start now. Way I see it, you either get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’. I’m doin’ both.”

“Can chems even kill you? Aren’t ghouls relatively...bomb-proof, so to speak?”

Hancock shrugged. “Not sure any ghoul has ever tried to sink their own ship. But I haven’t always been like this. Few years back, I was a smoothskin just like you. Maybe not as pretty, but...Didn’t look like swiss cheese, either.”

“Get too close to a radioactive puddle?” Edun asked, curious.

“While I was busy making myself a pillar of the community, I would....go on these wild tears. I was young. Any chems I could find, the more exotic, the better.” The ghoul sat back on his heels, a faraway look in his eyes. “Finally found this experimental radiation drug. Only one of its kind left, and only one hit. Oh, man...The high was  _ so  _ worth it. Yeah, I’m livin’ with the side effects...But what’s not to love about immortality?”

“It sounds like it might get lonely,” Edun offered. He was being flippant about his chem use, but she didn’t buy that it was purely recreational. There was more to him than that. He smiled at her words.

“Not always. Seems to me there was a night not too long ago where neither of us was lonely.”

This. This was the thing she was worried about. This was why she’d considered him escorting her was maybe a bad idea.  _ Shit.  _

“I...owe you an apology,” Edun said quietly. “That night, I was...reacting. To a lot of things, bad things, jumbled up in my head. I wasn’t looking for more, just, I don’t know. I wanted to feel something  _ else. _ ”

Hancock chuckled at that. “Relax, sister. I’m not after a marriage proposal. We all cope however we can. For me, that’s chems. For you, it’s incredibly good looking ghouls and lots of whiskey. Ain’t no judgement here. Besides, I’m no fool. I saw the way Preston looked at you, all mooney-eyed and sweet on ya. Figured it was only a matter of time before something came of  _ that.  _ Can’t say I blame you. He’s a beautiful man.”

“Wait, you...know? About Preston?” Suddenly her face was hotter than the fires of hell.

“Word gets around,” Hancock grinned. “And I’m in the business of knowin’ things.” He reached out and peeked under her bandage, nodding to himself. “Looks like the bleeding has stopped.”

Edun was seized with a sudden paranoia. “Hancock, can I...I mean, can the bite…”

Hancock laughed uproariously. “We’re not zombies, ya know. You won’t turn into a ghoul just because one of them munched on you. You pre-war types watched way too damn many movies.”

“Oh, ah, right,” Edun laughed awkwardly. Hancock rose to his feet and offered her a hand, which she took gratefully. She felt a thousand pounds lighter now that the elephant in the room had been addressed. They moved around the church, exploring the ruin of it. It had not fared well in the blast. Beams from the ceiling had crushed some of the pews, and the place was blanketed in a thick cover of dust and ash. The parishioners who had not turned to ghouls were still in the aisles, bones clad in crumbling remnants of their church best.  _ Imagine coming to a place like this to seek peace and solace, and instead having hell itself open up and swallow you whole,  _ Edun thought as she stepped over the bones of what had once been a woman in a pink dress, still clasping her child’s hand in death. She spied another painting of a lantern, this one seemed to be pointing towards the sort of door that often led to a basement. It was lacking the ornate quality everything else in the once-lovely church had.

“Age before beauty,” Hancock insisted, taking the stairs down ahead of her. They were in a long series of brick tunnels, the darkness and cool air pressing in around them. Suffocating. Dogmeat was growling again, and Hancock took notice - raising his pistol and pushing ahead. There were ghouls down here, too, though only a couple of them. No doubt they had fled down to the tunnels seeking shelter, but not even these ancient brick walls could protect them from radiation. Edun let them go on ahead. Hancock was insisting on being chivalrous with clearing out the ghouls, and she wasn’t in the mood to fight anything at the moment. Something about having a chunk bitten out of her like she was a fucking sandwich by a feral ghoul really took the wind out of her sails.

“Hey!” Hancock called back to her. “I think I found something!”

She trotted to catch up to him and stopped, looking at the wall switch. There was another Boston Freedom Trail marker plate, but wires ran to it. In the center, the design came to an arrow. Someone had colored the arrow red. Edun reached out and touched the plate. It was separated into rings, each one moved independent of the other. As she turned the ring with the words on it, the red arrow aligned with letters.  _ Aha.  _ It was some sort of resource to input a password. 

“Hancock,” she said, shifting the lettered ring. “If you were a member of the underground Railroad, what would your password be?”

“Uhhh, try, ‘Viva La Resistance?’” He offered unhelpfully.

Edun rolled her eyes and began to spell out her best guess, pressing the center plate with each selection. Each time, an affirmative  _ click  _ sounded. As she entered the last letter, there was a final  _ click  _ followed by the ratcheting groan of stone moving and sliding out of the way.

“Holy shit,” Edun laughed. “It really  _ was  _ ‘Railroad.’ That’s the equivalent of your birthday for a password.”

“They should fire their security guy,” Hancock commented, peering into the gloom before them as the hidden doorway opened.

“Careful,” Edun said, stepping into the black. Her pip boy didn’t give them much illumination. She could see maybe four feet in front of her. “There could be traps or mines farther in.”

They proceeded carefully, watching for trip wires or disturbed earth. Edun could see a room opening up ahead of them, and was mere feet from the edge of steps when a set of bright white floodlights came on, blinding her.

“Well,” drawled a male voice from behind the lights. “If it isn’t the big bad Courser killer. I told Des you’d make it down here eventually. You’ve been busy. Makin’ a _lot_ of waves up there.”

Footsteps approached. “Deacon, will you stop with the theatrics? You’re blinding her,” A woman’s voice chastised, and the lights were flipped off and replaced with a much softer light.

Edun blinked a few times, seeing nothing but bright spots in her vision. As they faded, she took in the scene before her. Across the room stood a handful of people. A terrifying and beautiful woman holding a minigun, a man with an absurd pompadour, a ginger woman smoking a cigarette, and a slender man leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

“Welcome to the Railroad,” the ginger woman said, dropping her cigarette and smashing it beneath her boot. “I’m Desdemona, the leader. This is Deacon, the jackass who tried to blow out your corneas. Over there is Glory, and this is Drummer Boy.”

“I’m Edun, General of the Minutemen,” Edun replied, relieved this was a friendly greeting after all. “This is Dogmeat, my esteemed colleague and personal yoga instructor. And I’m sure all of you know Hancock.”

“Hi,” Hancock said brightly, wiggling his fingers in an absurd little wave.

The aforementioned Deacon sauntered forward. “So, now that you’ve finally bothered to find us...What brings you to our humble abode?”

“I was told you might be able to help me. I need a Courser chip decrypted.”

Desdemona’s mouth dropped open, and the new cigarette she’d been holding between her lips tumbled to the ground. She didn’t even try to catch it. “You have a  _ Courser chip?”  _

“It kind of came with the territory of killing aforementioned Courser,” Edun shrugged. “But both Amari and Hancock here seem to think you folks have the tech to decrypt it.”

“I think we can help you,” Desdemona answered carefully. “But how do we know we can trust you?”

“You don’t. But if you get me what I need, you can keep the chip and whatever headcheese is still stuck to it.”

Desdemona’s eyes glittered at the thought of such a prize, and she nodded. “Very well. Follow me, and we will see about decrypting that chip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter gets pretty wild. buckle in.


	28. I’m Not Your Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Descriptions of amputation ahead. Bonus: My terrible art

“Boy, those Railroad folks really wanted you to join their club,” Hancock commented as they made their way back up the stairs and through the silent chapel. “Especially that Deacon guy. Who, by the way, looks real fuckin’ familiar. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before… Some _wheres_ before…”

“There’s a lot of that going around lately,” Edun sighed. “Everyone wants a slice of vaultie I guess. Like I don’t have enough shit to juggle with helping settlements, rebuilding the Minutemen, and feeding Dogmeat. The latter is a full time job.”

A wet, black nose nudged the inside of her palm as if sensing potential, and Edun sighed before digging a snack cake out of her pocket and offering it to the dog. They’d gone past lunchtime, and she was feeling the pinch of it too.

“Can ya blame them?” Hancock shrugged. “Things have been tough around here for a long time. Those that don’t succeed in scraping their way to some sort of top end up dead. Wasn’t easy for my people. When my brother kicked all the ghouls out of Diamond City, they were left to fend for ourselves in the ruins of Boston. I don’t need to tell you that’s not the safest place. A lot of them died.” 

“Wait,” Edun said, stopping outside the chapel and turning. “Your brother...is _Mayor McDonut?”_

For a moment, Hancock forgot himself and let out a barking laugh. “McDonut. That’s pretty great. Yeah, he’s my brother. Growing up he was the typical big brother. Pushed me around, framed me for things, dumped rotten tatos down the back of my shirt before smacking his hand against them. But the ghoul thing... I never expected that. I begged him to change his mind. He just stood there, lookin’ down from his lofty perch as the _good people_ of Diamond City turned on the ghouls, and do you know what he said? He said… ‘It’s mine. It’s finally mine.’ And then he smiled. That hideous fucking mile-long smile of his. I didn’t recognize him anymore. I should have...killed him right there. But I didn’t think it would change anything.”

“Big change from the brother you knew,” Edun agreed. “I’m so sorry, Hancock.”

He shrugged again, fiddling with his sash. “I couldn’t stand being around there another second. I wasn’t a ghoul yet, so I didn’t have to leave…But staying felt like being complicit. I’d been sneakin’ off to Goodneighbor for years for chems, so I knew all the safe routes. I tracked down a few of the families, led them there. But they couldn’t get used to the... _Goodneighbor lifestyle_. I brought them food for a few weeks, but eventually...they all disappeared. Folks in Diamond City signed their death warrants, and then sat back and watched.”

"You must have felt very alone.”

He nodded. “I felt like I was the only one who saw how truly screwed up things were. Who couldn’t just...pretend things were fine. Still feel that way. Or I did, until _you_ waltzed into the Commonwealth with all those good intentions of yours. You put your money where your mouth is.” He looked her in the eyes, and Edun saw how hard it was for him to bare his soul like this. “I know I run my mouth a lot, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it...It means a lot. To me, to the people you’ve helped, to those you continue to help.”

“Shit Hancock, you’re going to make me blush,” she grinned.

He laughed softly. “Yeah, well, it had to be said. Now come on. Let’s move. There’s a lovely bottle of bourbon in my desk, and if you play your cards right, I just might share.”

“Say no more,” Edun laughed, resuming her pace.

Edun’s pip boy crackled, as it often did when there was a new frequency in range. Curious, Edun tuned in to the signal and listened.

_“...My name is Red Goodwin, and I am being held hostage at the top of Trinity Tower. I...think the super mutants plan on eating me soon. I’m setting this to repeat - Ah, shit! Gotta sign off! One of the super mutants is coming!...”_

“I’m gonna hazard a wild guess and say you plan on helping that guy,” Hancock commented drily.

“You don’t have to come, you know,” Edun answered. “I’ll understand if you’re shaking in your boots at the thought.”

“Listen here, sister, I’m not about to let you wander into super mutant territory without some backup. I’ll be fine. It’s that delicate smooth skin of yours I’m worried about.”

“Sure it is,” she said with a grin. She knew where Trinity Tower was. They’d have a long walk through mutant territory, but they’d proven to be a good team on the walk to the Railroad. They could handle this. “Besides, we have Dogmeat. He’ll keep us safe. Won’t you, honeysugarsnacks?” The dog barked in response to her affirmation, and Hancock chuckled.

“Lead on, crazy lady.”

  
  


At thirty stories high, Trinity Tower was one of the tallest buildings in Boston, and Edun was surprised to see it was still standing just as tall if not a little less proud. Sections of the building were blown away, thick metal beams exposed like bones. She groaned at all the suspicious netted bags of meat and other telltale signs of super mutant activity. She could have done without wading through literal human soup today. At least she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Dogmeat trotted beside her, hackles on end and a continuous low growl in his throat as they approached the building’s ground floor lobby. Edun crouched beneath a shattered window and peered over the edge, scoping out the interior.

There were three super mutants milling about in the lobby. Two on the ground and one thudding his way around the upper balcony. Three was doable. She held up three fingers to Hancock, who nodded his understanding. Edun slowly brought her laser rifle up and sighted in on one of the mutants. She fired, two shots to the head. Down he went. The other two mutants immediately sprang to action with alarmed shouts, rushing towards her. The one on the balcony leaped over the ledge, landing on the old vinyl floor with a loud crash. He had an enormous sledgehammer in hand. The other had a pipe rifle. Edun and Hancock cut them down with a spray of rounds before either mutant could get too close.

“See?” Edun said, rising and walking into the lobby through the long-shattered glass doors. “Easy.”

“So says you,” Hancock grimaced, climbing over one of the dead mutants blocking the stairs. “You owe me some shoe polish later.”

“I’ll polish your boots,” Edun replied cheerfully. “With Brahmin dung. Hear it works wonders on quality leather.”

_“Ha!”_ A mutant’s voice came over the building’s speaker system. _“Another human comes to rescue Rex! You only killed the weakest of us. That makes us stronger. If they can’t kill one puny human, they are less than nothing.”_

“He sounds nice,” Edun commented sarcastically.

At the top of the stairs was an elevator, and once everyone had crowded in around her, she hit the button for the top floor. It was better to start at the top and work their way down if possible. Higher ground could only be helpful in battling their way through a tower full of angry super mutants. She decided to switch back to her shotgun. It would seem they were going to be doing a lot more fighting...and in tight hallways and small office spaces, the shotgun was better suited. Hancock gave her an approving nod as she unslung the weapon and loaded a fresh magazine into the Saiga 12. She had just bought a whole bunch of 12GA frangible ammo from Daisy and was itching to use it, anyway.

The elevator stopped short of the top floor. Edun guessed there was likely something blocking the shaft. Considering the condition of the tower, she wasn’t surprised. The door dinged open, and they stepped out into a smaller lobby. She heard a long, eerie howl and Dogmeat responded with a louder growl. A mutant hound had caught their scent. Dogmeat _hated_ mutant hounds. In response to the howl, super mutants came running from the various small offices on the floor, and Edun and Hancock found themselves in an intense firefight. She charged to one of the smaller offices in a corner, seeking cover and a better tactical position than standing awkwardly in front of the elevator. The broken-out windows allowed for return fire, and provided a good view of the rest of the floor and the encroaching super mutants. Two full magazines and a handful of frag grenades later, and the area was clear. Edun was shaking from the adrenaline. Fighting ghouls wasn’t so bad. You either killed them or they ripped you apart. Raiders might kill you or sell you to the highest bidder if they got the upper hand on you. But mutants? They’d either eat you or change you. There were high stakes involved any time you put yourself in a position like this.

She wouldn’t tell Hancock this, but she often thought of the grisly scene she’d stumbled into outside Diamond City all those weeks ago. The meat sizzling over the fire, the skull at the bottom of the bin - tissue still clinging to it. She saw those empty sockets a thousand times over in her head, and in situations like this the memory was fresh. She’d something to herself that day. She would never let herself be captured by super mutants. She’d rather die than live to see the horrors they might unleash on her. The only thing Edun planned to feed was worms. Ideally someday very far away. More taunts from the overhead speakers came as they continued on. Edun paid them no mind. She wasn’t about to immerse herself in the finer points of super mutant intellect.

They explored the rest of the floor, and found another elevator. This one seemed to be functioning, so Edun tried again. She hit the top floor button and waited. The elevator shuddered into motion. Shuddering was not preferable. An elevator shuddering in a building that was this damaged made Edun cringe inwardly. The elevator again stopped short of the top floor, but it was close enough. They were on floor 27, and a short walk wasn’t _so_ bad. Edun stepped out and followed the stairs up. Floor 28 was missing a good section of wall, and as Edun reached the top of the flight she could see a darkening sky outside. A radstorm was blowing in, the sky taking on that murky green light it always did before the torrent unleashed. _Well,_ she thought, _this is shaping up to be a lovely evening. Super mutants and a radstorm. And it’s not even my birthday._

They fought their way through the mutants, and with them firing down from overhead balconies, Edun felt further vindicated in her desire to start from the top floor and work her way down. It was hard to return fire when you had to hide behind half-walls and coffee stations and couldn’t see shit. She blessed Daisy with each shot, the frangible ammo tearing through the soft tissue of super mutant flesh. When they’d finished clearing the floor and a panting Hancock had taken a hit of jet - _What, I missed lunch, too -_ They pushed on. There was a broadcasting room with an ‘On Air’ sign blinking over the door. Whoever had been on there and greeted them earlier was amongst the bodies littering the floor. Oopsie, so much for all that bravado. A makeshift ramp in the room opposite the broadcasting equipment led them farther up, and Edun took it.

There, at the top, was a makeshift cage. A man’s face peered out at her, pallid and grubby. He wore a suit that had seen better days, and he pressed his hands to the mesh of the door upon seeing her.

“Oh, beneficent bard!” The man cried. “A rescuer! You’re the first one to ever make it up here!” 

“I don’t doubt that. Kind of hard to reach you considering you had an army of super mutants between you and the ground floor,” Edun replied.

“I...think these super mutants killed and ate the others,” Rex said, wringing his hands nervously. “They were starting to look at me in a way I didn’t like one bit. Quickly, you must get us out of here!”

“Us?” Edun asked. Before she could inquire further, an enormous super mutant stomped into view behind Rex. “Woah,” she exclaimed, stepping back and bringing her shotgun up. “What the hell is going on here?” 

“He’s with me! Don’t hurt him!” Rex explained, holding his hands up. “His name is Strong. He’s a friend.”

“Last I checked, super mutants weren’t exactly the friendly sort,” Edun didn’t relax her shotgun. “Is this some kind of trick?”

“No time for this,” Strong asserted. “My brothers know human is attacking tower. Many more are coming.”

“Fuck,” Edun swore. “Nothing is ever easy, is it.”

“Didn’t you just say a few floors ago this was easy?” Hancock pointed out somewhat snidely, to which Edun rolled her eyes. She pulled out her homemade lockpicking kit and went to work on the cage lock while Hancock stood guard. If Strong was going to bash her brains in, she would find out later. Right now they needed to move, before super mutants swarmed them. The lock clicked open at last, and Edun swung the door open. Rex hustled out of his prison, Strong close behind him.

“Follow Strong,” Rex instructed. “He knows the best way down.”

“I hope it doesn’t involve parachutes,” Edun said mildly. “I left mine at home today.”

Strong led them back down the ramp and stopped at a lift. It was the rickety sort of thing window washers used on high rises, and Edun stopped short. She wasn’t afraid of heights, per se, but the platform hardly looked ready to hold a dog, three grown humans, and one very large super mutant.

“You’re kidding, right? You want to take that thing _thirty floors_ down?”

“Best way,” Strong insisted. “Mutants taking stairs and elevators. Safest way down.”

“No offense, Strong, but if your heavy ass breaks the lift I am going to take it extremely personal,” Edun groused, climbing onto the platform. Strong chuckled in a way that was distinctly gleeful. The lift _swayed_ under her, and she swore again, grabbing the rail. The rest followed, the rusted metal framing groaning under the burden. _This is one way to die. Death by window washing._

When everyone was on board, Edun hit the control button and the platform began a slow and wobbly descent, the winch above them creaking and whining at the abuse. She could hear super mutants below, flooding each floor and searching for the invaders. She held her shotgun ready, waiting, and as soon as the first ugly green head popped into view she began to fire. With Strong and Rex unarmed, and Rex no doubt useless in a fight, Edun and Hancock took the brunt of the assault. This was as precarious of a position as it got. They were dangling alongside a building thirty floors up from cables that looked like they had seen better days, while super mutants opened fire on them like the first day of duck season. It wasn’t what she’d had in mind, but she didn’t imagine rescue missions involving super mutants ever turned out like you wanted them to. She stayed low, doing her best to minimize her target area, and returned fire. More and more mutants were appearing, and she was reminded that there were many floors she and Hancock hadn’t touched. Everywhere the building was broken open or damaged, they fired from. It was a hellish descent.

Then the platform ground to a halt halfway down the building, and no amount of bashing the red button on the control plate changed it.

“Why is it stopping!?” Rex cried in a shrill voice.

“Follow Strong. There is another platform. Other side.” the mutant told them, marching off the platform and making it rock with his weight. The others followed him, for a moment pinned down by the group of super mutants patrolling the floor. Blessedly, Strong grabbed one of the discarded pipe rifles and joined in the fight. Three guns and a dog vs. God Knows How Many was better than two. As promised, there was a second platform. It did not look to be in any better shape, but an escape route was an escape route. The others climbed on, and Edun slammed the button down as bullets began to hail down on them from above. The lift began to move in the same agonizingly slow speed as the other one, and Edun felt a bullet glance off her chest plate and embed itself in her left bicep. She cursed. There was no time to tend to it, and she seemed to maintain function in her left arm. She felt blood soaking her sleeve and ignored it, focused on returning fire.

The shotgun was a poor choice now. As the lift descended, the distance to the targets increased. Hancock seemed to be doing a better job of hitting what he aimed at. The platform began to jounce and jiggle and grind as though it might stop, and Edun gave the control box a vicious kick. The platform would not bear much more abuse, and falling to their deaths was becoming a very real possibility. Hancock and Strong did their best to lay down cover fire as she violently cajoled the controls. The platform creaked past another blown-out wall, and that was when she felt an enormous and freakishly strong hand reach out and grab her by her left wrist. Naturally, that was the exact moment the platform decided to agree with her, and resumed normal speed down the side of the building. She felt herself lifted off the platform, booted feet kicking out beneath her. She looked up and saw the grinning face of a super mutant. Below, she heard Hancock shout, realizing what had happened. The enormous green mitt held her so tightly she could feel the bones of her wrist and hand creaking in protest, threatening to snap as the pressure of it in addition to her weight crushed the delicate bones.

She only had seconds to react. The mutant began to haul her up. She caught a window frame with her toes, hooking her feet beneath the ledge and halting the mutant’s progress momentarily. He let out a furious roar and yanked harder. Edun felt the agonizing pop of her shoulder leaving it’s joint, and screamed. The mutant chuckled.

“I am hungry. Human will make nice dinner for us,” he promised, yanking on her again. Edun looked down. She couldn’t be sure, but she guessed there was 20 floors down to go. The platform was beneath her, but dwindling away slowly. Hancock was frantically hitting the button, but the lift wasn’t stopping. She still held her shotgun. She could blast the mutant in the face. Sure, it would probably mean her death when he dropped her after. Human bones didn’t like falling 20 stories. But the alternative was being dinner, and there was no fucking way she was going to allow that. Her toes lost purchase, slipping off the smooth metal of the window ledge, and the mutant hauled her further in. He was out of sight, and her arm was through the broken wall nearly up to the elbow. Fuck. She could hear a whole hell of a lot more mutants on the other side of the broken wall, cheering and yelling about dinner. Maybe a dozen of them. More than she could handle alone, _if_ she survived the first three feet in there.

“I’m not your fucking dinner!” she yelled, furious.

There wasn’t much else to do. No way out. She raised her shotgun, pressed the barrel into the crook of her elbow, and fired. The gun cycled, blinding pain erupting from her damaged limb as the round nearly severed her arm. She felt bone break, felt tendons tear away like wet tissue paper. Not quite there. One more round should do the trick. Inside, she heard the mutant let out a confused yell, feeling the shift in weight. She closed her eyes, tightened around the trigger again, and fired a second time.

Her arm separated from her with a final wrenching protest, blood spraying down on her before she felt gravity take hold and she plummeted towards the ground. _Well, Edun. You always figured something in this new world you get you. It was only a matter of time before all this dangerous living you were doing caught up to you._ The worst part, the part that made her ache as she fell, was the thought that she’d truly failed Church in the end. She had come so close to rescuing his son, only to get herself splatted like an egg on some stupid rescue mission. She closed her eyes, clutching what remained of her left arm. She didn’t want to see the ground rise up to meet her. She just wanted it to be quick.

Something caught her. She jolted to a halt, the shoulder straps of her back pulling taut, hard, making her scream at the pain in her disjointed shoulder. She swung in the air for a moment, feeling somewhat queasy as she opened her eyes and watched her feet swing out beneath her. She’d blown her own goddamn arm off only for another one of them to catch her? She couldn’t catch a fucking break today. Then she heard the screeching of the lift as the sudden weight of her displaced it, and it swung like a terrifying pendulum as Strong lifted her up and over, setting her down at Hancock’s feet. Dogmeat began to frantically lick her face, whining with concern, and Hancock crouched beside her.

“Jesus, sunshine, what the hell did you do to yourself?” He gasped, examining her destroyed arm.

“Didn’t want to be...dinner,” she groaned.

“Take my belt!” Rex offered, hurriedly removing the item and offering it to Hancock. The ghoul took it and wrapped the leather strap around Edun’s arm, just above the ruined joint.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts, kid,” he grumbled as he tightened the belt, eliciting a cry from her. “But goddamn do you have some serious balls.”

Edun was shaking, shock setting in. Bizarrely her arm didn’t hurt as much as she expected it would. “Hancock,” she said through chattering teeth. “I’m gonna need the whole bottle of bourbon after this shit.”

Hancock reached out and cupped her face, his eyes unreadable. “Yeah. I think you’ve earned it at this point. Hang tight, we’re gonna get you out of here. Just lie still, okay?”

“This landed on the platform after you...fell,” Rex said helpfully, holding up Edun’s disembodied left forearm distastefully. The hand was bloodless and white, still protruding from her pip boy. Edun let out a shriek of a laugh, hysteria trying to take hold of her. 

“Put that down,” Hancock hissed angrily. Rex backed away, face white, and stashed the gruesome item somewhere.

Hancock stood and drew his pistol again, joining Strong in the ongoing firefight. The attacks lessened the farther down the lift took them, until they reached the ground floor at last. It was blessedly empty. All the mutants had surged upward, where their prisoners and the humans were last seen. 

“We’d better get out of here before they ride those elevators back down,” Rex warned. “Can she walk?”

“I’m missing an arm, not my fucking legs,” Edun pointed out graciously. 

“Strong will carry human. Human has earned help. Human is a great warrior,” Strong stated, not waiting for confirmation. He bent and lifted Edun inelegantly, slinging her over his shoulder like she was a side of beef. She let out an _oof_ as the wind was knocked out of her, and more such sounds as the super mutant broke into a run with Rex, Hancock, and Dogmeat close behind. The radstorm had swept in with an astonishing violence, lighting cracking through the sky like demonic whips overhead. They weren’t in any position to stop or seek shelter, not with the threat of dozens of super mutants catching up to them. They tucked their heads and ran, Edun’s geiger counter ticking frantically her bag over Hancock’s shoulder.

The bouncing on the mutant’s shoulder reminded her body that it was recently involved in a terrible trauma and missing something important, and pain broke over Edun like waves over rock. She tried to stay awake, but blood loss and shock won out in the end, and the last thing she remembered was Strong’s big green behind, barely covered by a loincloth of sorts. Did super mutants have...you know..?


	29. Her Eyes They Shone Like Diamonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Cait and I'm not sorry for it. :B

Edun awoke thinking for a moment she was on a boat. A boat in the middle of a stormy sea. That thought was disputed quickly by the visual of the flexing green hams of a super mutant backside.  _ Strong.  _ The swaying of the boat was her body swinging back and forth from his shoulder as he walked. She reached to push herself up a little, and was reminded by an agonizing pain in her left arm that half the damn thing was missing, and she let out a half-howl half-moan as she pressed the severed end to Strong’s back by mistake.

“She’s awake!” Hancock yelled. “Stop for a second!”

Strong halted abruptly, Edun’s face bumping into his meaty back. “Put me down,” she said thickly. “I can walk, and I’m sick of staring at your ass.”

Strong chuckled and set her down, somewhat gently. As gently as any super mutant could, anyway. She promptly nearly fell over, and Hancock’s hands caught her. Edun looked up and around, taking in their environment. The radstorm had lessened, settling for a mercurial downpour. Hancock draped his coat around her, and she clutched at it gratefully.

“We’re in the Fens,” she observed.

“Closest doctor is Diamond City,” Hancock answered. “We were afraid taking you all the way back to Goodneighbor would be a bad idea.”

“But you can’t go to Diamond City,” Edun insisted, swaying dangerously. “Let’s go to Goodneighbor. Fuck those guys.” Her was soaked through and shivering, and she was glad she had missed lunch because right about now she felt like it might have come back up.

“You’re hardly in any shape to double back,” Hancock argued. “The stimpack stopped the bleeding, and I was able to pop your shoulder back in place...but your arm is a fuckin’ mess. Not to mention you must have lost a few pints of blood back there. All of them down the side of the tower.”

“They’ll definitely shoot Strong on sight,” Edun motioned limply at the mutant. “And they might do the same to you.”

“The plan was they would get you close, and I would walk you the rest of the way,” Rex said timidly, stepping closer. “Besides, I have a cousin in Diamond City. I can stay with him after we get you looked after.” 

Edun sighed. “Will the two of you be alright?”

“Strong can take care of himself,” Strong answered proudly. “If human does not die, human should come find Strong. Strong would be honored to fight at human’s side.”

“Gee, thanks,” Edun replied, closing her eyes to stop the world from spinning. She was now officially in some fucked up universe where a super mutant thought she was cool. She licked her lips. They felt terribly dry. “Okay. Okay. Let’s go to Diamond City. I fuckin’ hate that place, but we’re too close now. I’ll suck it up.”

Strong offered to carry her once more, but Edun declined. She was incredibly nauseous, and the thought of swinging over the mutant’s shoulder again threatened to break down the last of her resolve. At the edge of the fens, Edun wrapped her remaining arm around Hancock in a tight hug.

“Thanks for having my back,” she said into the collar of his coat. “I’ll kick Mayor McDonut in the nuts for you. I promise.”

He returned the hug gingerly, careful not to jostle her too much. “Aww, you spoil me. We’ll split that bourbon next time, huh?” 

“Next time,” she agreed. Her shotgun was long gone, having tumbled 20 stories down, but her .44 remained in its holster. It would be easier to use one-handed anyway, if they ran into trouble. This close to the gate, the Diamond City guard should have the area under control. She wasn’t too worried. Strong looked at her with an expression of concern, as though he was afraid she would attempt to hug him, too. She smiled at the thought, imagining the level of scandalization Danse would feel if she told him she’d made friends with a super mutant. He’d likely burst a blood vessel and fall over dead from the sheer shock of it. She couldn’t wait to tell him all about it.

“Strong,” she gave him a nod. “Thanks for the assist. I’ll look you up the next time I’m in town.”

“Strong look forward to it,” the mutant replied, relieved there would be no hugging.

Without anything left to say, Edun and Rex headed towards the Great Big Fat Jewel of the Commonwealth. He was carrying her pack for her, much to Edun’s relief, and blessedly her laser rifle was still secured to the side of it. It had been a gift from Danse, and she would have been mortified if she’d lost it. The streets were quiet, and she was glad. She didn’t think Rex was the type to do well in a fight. He was a rather nervous and dramatic little man, eyes darting about them anxiously as they passed through the rubble of Boston.

Ahead, a few guards were patrolling. Edun could make out the catcher’s gear and the round helmets. She thought she recognized them, and sure enough, as she drew close enough to make out features she saw Joey. He recognized her, too. It was hard to blend in when her face was essentially a fuckin’ beacon to everyone and everything.

“Ay!” Joey cried, punching his buddy in the arm. “Look, Mickey! It’s that one chick. The scarred up one!” Edun winced and considered putting a bullet between his eyes, but there was no point in being so sensitive over such an old injury. 

“Hello boys,” she said wanly. “Been a while.”

“Holy shit,” Joey exclaimed as she closed the distance. “What the hell happened to _you?”_ She felt his eyes roaming over her, almost rude in their lack of tact. She was covered in blood, both her own and super mutant. She had a bullet wound in her bicep and half an arm missing. Her hair hung in lank, wet strands about her face. Shit, it was hard  _ not _ to stare. She probably looked like the embodiment of Bloody Mary herself.

“Super mutants,” she answered. “ _ Lots _ of super mutants.”

“Goddamn,” Rick chimed in. “Hope you got a few shots in at least.”

“I got more than a few in,” she said casually as she did her best to stroll past them. The pain in her missing arm was almost unbearable. Walking had gotten her circulation up, and it felt as though she’d laid her arm out on a steel table and someone was hammering the end of it with a mallet. “Be safe out there, fellas.”

"Some kind of woman, ain't she," she heard Joey say admiringly to Mickey behind her retreating back.

The gate opened as she approached. At least she hadn’t pissed off the denizens within enough to get locked out like Piper had. Rex took her as far as the market, and after she assured him she would be fine on her own, she sent him on his way. She didn’t even look at Power Noodles. Her stomach clenched in violent protest at the thought. She wobbled her way over to Mega Surgery center. Upon seeing her, Doctor Sun didn’t ask any questions. With a quick order of  _ Stay  _ to Dogmeat, he immediately ushered her into his operating room and made her sit on a gurney. For once, Edun didn’t turn down the Med-X. She could barely think around the pain, and decided once wouldn’t actually kill her. She’d face whatever consequences came of her weakness later. Once he’d taken the edge off, Sun began to ask his questions, examining her as he did.

“Mind telling me how you ended up like this?” He asked, frowning as he prodded the bullet wound in her bicep.

“It’s a very long story involving a tower, a bunch of super mutants, and a lift. I, ah, did this to myself. Well, the arm thing, anyway. It was either lose an arm or end up worse off.”

“You...shot off your own arm?” Sun asked, looking horrified. “I certainly cannot make a new one grow, though I’ve heard rumors from the Capital Waste that...Well, it does not matter. I will need to trim back the bone and sew the end of it up properly. You’ve got a good amount of the joint left, and it needs to come out.” He rolled back on his stool. “As well as taking out that bullet. You are not going to want to be awake for this. Trust me on that.”

“Do what you’ve got to do,” Edun sighed. “My day can’t get much worse. I’ve got the caps. Just...fix me up the best you can.”

Dr Sun nodded and stood. “I can either cut the clothing off of you, or we can try to wiggle you out of it. Personally, I’d recommend the former.”

“What am I supposed to wear after?” Edun asked archly.

“You think this is the first time someone wandered into my office with a limb missing?” Sun asked drily. “I keep an assortment of clothing for occasions such as this. You will have your pick of a new outfit after.”

She sighed and lay back on the gurney, too lightheaded to protest. “Cut away, doc. Just...don’t throw any of it out. I’ve got some items in the pockets I’ll want back.”

Dr Sun nodded, rolling up the sleeve on her good arm and injecting her with something else. Euphoria flooded through Edun, and she faded away to the blurry figure of Dr Sun moving around the room and preparing things.

When she came around again, she saw an unexpected face in the room. RJ sat in a chair beside her, looking distinctly crabby. She tended to have that effect on him, she realized with amusement. She felt good. Amazing, even. The chems danced through her like the shimmering lights of a disco. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, grumpypants?” She giggled.

“I got bored in Sanctuary and decided to run some errands,” RJ responded irritably.  _ Translation: I missed Ellie _ , Edun finished mentally. “Imagine my surprise when my dinner last night was interrupted by Nick, informing me you’d staggered into town looking half-dead and covered in blood. That you’d gone straight to Dr Sun and disappeared into his office.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I leave you alone for five fu--, ah, frickin’ seconds, and you manage to  _ get an arm blown off _ ?” 

“Go big or go home,” Edun replied with another giggle.

“You’re really annoying when you’re high,” RJ rolled his eyes. “Go back to sleep, I like you better that way.”

“How’s Ellie doing?” Edun tittered. She was rewarded with two bright spots on RJ’s cheeks, and he mumbled something angrily before picking up his magazine again. Edun realized she had an IV inserted at the crook of her right elbow. A bag of Rad-Away hung from a rack beside her, the line hanging from it and meeting the IV in her arm. The radstorm must have irradiated her a little too much. That explained the nausea. Which, speaking of, was gone. Edun realized she was rather ravenous now. She looked down at herself. She was clad in an old hospital gown, a blanket tucked around her. Beside RJ, in a wire basket, was what appeared to be the tattered remains of her outfit. She felt an odd moment of sadness, looking at the destroyed vault suit. It had been the first thing to protect her in the wasteland, and now it was in bloody ruin.

She fell asleep again, knowing RJ would keep an eye on her and taking comfort in the knowledge.

-

Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since Trinity Tower. In the days following the incident, Edun had become withdrawn. She’d followed RJ back to Sanctuary in silence a few days after surgery, not feeling much like talking. As she walked, she could swear she felt her left arm swinging at her side like it always had. If she concentrated, she could almost feel the fingers of her old hand curling in response. Despite her pip boy now resting on her right wrist, the muscle memory of it on her left was hard to overcome. She would repeatedly look down to check the damn thing, only to realize she had lifted an arm that was no longer there. It was wholly unnerving. Being a soldier, she’d heard plenty about phantom limb syndrome. She’d seen many of her brothers and sisters in arms lose partial or whole limbs to grenades, traps, or gangrene. She’d never expected it to happen to her. While she was grateful she wasn’t dead, it was hard to be joyous in that sentiment. RJ didn’t pressure her. He had merely watched the road, kept an eye on her, and made sure she at least drank water. She didn’t have much of an appetite, and no matter how much RJ insisted, Edun passed up on the travel rations.

Preston had been nothing but empathetic. Edun knew he had only the kindest intentions, but she found herself pulling away even from him. Her face had been one thing. She had grown into acceptance of the scars. But this...her mutilated body, and the thought of baring it to him...she couldn’t stand it. She pushed him away as gently as she could, the pain of it nearly worse than the pain of losing her arm had been. If he had been hurt by it, he didn’t show it. He gave her the space she needed, stopping by on occasion to bring her some food or magazines. Dogmeat was continuously at her side, the only presence she needed or wanted, and she spent much of her day staring out a window with her remaining hand buried in his fur.

She lost weight out of her disinterest in food, but disposed of each plate of food lest she have to face another lecture from Preston. Jun sent cookies, once. Well, his best amalgamation of them. She took a bite of one, so that she could tell him sincerely how good they were without hurting his feelings, and let the dog have the rest of the plate. Everything tasted like sawdust in her mouth. She ignored the communication attempts from Danse, asking for an update. The Commonwealth had taken enough from her, and she’d be damned if she gave another thought to the Brotherhood. They could wait. The whole damned lot could wait.

Two weeks passed like this, Edun staring listlessly out the window from her armchair or flipping through magazines without truly reading them. She hadn’t bathed since her return. She didn’t want to look at herself in the mirror, didn’t want to run a washcloth over the thing that had once been her arm. She changed the bandages with her face turned away, eyes averted as though it were an alien stump protruding from her.

It was Cait who interrupted Edun’s sanctum of misery. She kicked the door in, and Edun jumped out of her skin as Cait barged in, the door clanging loudly off the bookshelf behind it.

“Alright, listen, you,” Cait leveled a finger at Edun, looking like the eye of a storm. “Nobody understands feelin’ sorry for themselves better than me, but this shite has got to stop.” She marched over to Edun and kicked the coffee table out of the way, sending empty beer bottles scattering everywhere. “You need to fookin’ get up and get back to your life. Sittin’ around here feelin’ pitiful isn’t who you are, and you fookin’ know it.”

“What do you know about who I am?” Edun demanded sullenly, ignoring Cait’s accusatory hand. “What do any of you know?”

“I know that I see a woman who, like me, is tryin’ to drown herself,” Cait replied, her voice softening a tiny bit. “Listen, I know you lost your arm, but somethin’ else is eatin’ at you. I can see it in your eyes. If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. But I won’t sit by while you starve yourself to death in here. You’re a fighter. It’s in your blood. So fight this shite that’s tryin’ to tear you up inside. Don’t let it.”

Edun returned Cait’s intense gaze with her own fierce glare, but Cait was unflinching. She wasn’t scared of anything, let alone some fucking mess of a cripple trying to have a staring contest with her. Edun broke first, shifting her eyes away. Her fingers sought Dogmeat’s fur, and his warmth gave her more strength than she’d had a moment ago.

“I stumbled out of that vault and into this world with one thing in mind,” she began, fingers working through the dog’s thick fur. “I wanted to find Shaun, take him back from whoever took him, and live happily ever after. Or something like it. But ever since I thawed out, it’s just been...a laundry list of things I need to do. People who need help. One after another they line up, begging me to help them, and I keep… I keep putting myself in harm’s way for them. I don’t fucking know why I keep doing it. It’s like a compulsion for me, now. Someone calls for help and I go running into the fray like I’m a human shield.”

Her fingers curled and uncurled, and Dogmeat shifted so she could better scratch his favorite spot. She licked her lips and continued, still not meeting Cait’s eyes. “When I go to sleep, I don’t think about any of the things that are good anymore. I don’t think about what I’ll do when I get Shaun back. I don’t think about Preston, or Dogmeat, or even happy memories from before the war. I just think about every time someone here took something from me. I think about being tied to a tree while some fucked in the head raider beat the shit out of me, or I think about being chewed on by a ghoul, or how I felt when I thought I was going to end up tortured by super mutants until they finally ate me.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and Edun was humiliated that she didn’t have the hand needed to wipe them away. “Every time I step foot outside that door, someone needs something from me. And little by little the Commonwealth and it’s people are taking their pound of flesh from me. To the point it’s become literal. What fucking use am I to anyone now? If I can’t run their errands and handle their problems for them, I have no value to them.”

“That’s fookin’ horseshite,” Cait said crisply when Edun was done. Edun looked at her, then, startled.

“What?”

“I said it’s fookin’ horseshite. You act like you’re bein’ dragged into things against your will. Like you don’t have a choice, and you’re just some reluctant party who would rather be home playin’ housewife. And that’s fookin’ horseshite. You don’t  _ wait _ for people to ask you to help them. You fookin’ offer to. You wade into shite that’s none of your fookin’ business, because you see people in need and you  _ make  _ it your business.” The redhead was gesturing animatedly, her eyes blazing with wrath. “None of us fookin’ _ asked _ you to be our friend, you fookin’  _ made  _ us be your friends. So here we are, watchin’ your back in fights, sharin’ beers, spillin’ our fookin’ guts to you. And you know why? Because you fookin’ deserve it. Because you fookin’ earned our loyalty and our trust, by being a fookin’ nosy jackass who inserts herself in everyone’s fookin’ problems. So, that shite about poor you being dragged over the coals? I don’t fookin’ buy it. It’s fookin’ shite and you know it.”

Edun wanted to be angry with her. Wanted to lash out, say cruel things, make Cait feel the pain she felt. But despite the ugliness churning about in her heart, Edun heard the truth to Cait’s words. She’d brought this on herself. She had nobody to blame but herself for her involvement in everyone’s problems. Shame flamed up inside her, burned away everything else as she faced the barbs in Cait’s assertions.

“You’re right,” she said softly, closing her eyes. “I’m being awful. And I’m sorry. I just...don’t know how to be different right now.”

“Let us help you,” Cait urged. She lowered herself to a crouch before Edun. “Let us be there for you. If you don’t want to cry, then we’ll make you laugh. If you don’t want to leave your house, let us come in. You wouldn’t let any of us go into a fight we couldn’t handle alone. Don’t walk into this fight of yours alone.” 

Edun’s eyes opened at a light touch on her knee. Cait was looking at her with an expression stripped of all harshness. Edun had never seen Cait look this way, all walls down, naked and honest.

“Where do I start?” Edun whispered, her voice threatening to give out.

“Well,” Cait said thoughtfully, “Perhaps a bath is the best startin’ point. You smell like the south end of a northbound Brahmin. Then maybe you join us for dinner. I’m supposed to tell you Jun is cookin’, and there won’t be any carrots. He promises.” 

Edun let out a choked laugh and released Dogmeat’s fur, ignoring the grumble of protest he gave. “Okay,’ she nodded in assent. “Bath it is.”

Cait led her to the bathroom, helping Edun out of her filthy, rumpled clothes while the hot water filled the old porcelain tub. Bubbles rose with the churning water, and Edun sank into them gratefully. Cait crouched beside the tub wordlessly, scooping water up with a cup and pouring it over Edun’s ratted and filthy hair. She massaged soap into the matted mess, her fingers patiently working through the tangles and rubbing against Edun’s scalp with a tenderness that surprised her. She didn’t dare speak, for fear of jolting this strange new Cait from her task. Cait’s studious fingers, the first physical contact Edun had experienced in two weeks, brought renewed tears to her eyes. She felt as though she were crumbling, and Cait’s kindness was ushering it along. If Cait noticed the trembling in Edun’s shoulders, she did not comment. She lathered, rinsed, then lathered Edun’s hair again.

Edun realized Cait was humming something under her breath, and honed in on it.

“What are you humming?” she asked, waiting for Cait to deliberately rub soap in her eyes as punishment.

“A little somethin’ I picked up from me younger years,” Cait replied, surprisingly affable.

“Could you share it with me?” Edun pawed at the bubbles around her with her hand, scooping them in closer. Insulating herself. Cait paused in her scrubbing, and Edun wanted to cry in protest.

“If I do, and you tell anyone I did, I’ll fookin’ gut you meself. Friendship be damned.”

“I won’t say a word,” Edun vowed. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Cait let out a long sigh, and scooping up another cup of hot water, began to sing softly.

_ “...In a neat little town they called Belfast _

_ Apprentice to trade I was bound _

_ And many an hour's sweet happiness _

_ Have I spent in that neat little town _

_ As sad misfortune came over me _

_ Which caused me to stray from the land _

_ Far away from me friends and relations _

_ Betrayed by the black velvet band _

_ Her eyes they shone like diamonds _

_ I thought her the queen of the land _

_ And her hair, it hung over her shoulder _

_ Tied up with a black velvet band...” _

Cait had a surprisingly beautiful voice. The words flowed from her, the cadence touched and shaped by her rough brogue. For something so soft and gentle to come from a woman who worked so tirelessly to be hard and tough was near miraculous. Edun let the tears flow unhindered, and as the last words of the song left Cait’s throat, she reached up and took one of Cait’s hands in her own.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Not a damn word, Edun, I swear.” The words were not unkind.


	30. Free of the Chains that Bind

Despite Edun’s fears, she did not have any ill effects from the Med-X given to her by Dr Sun. She managed the inflammation from healing in her stump by taking some very much expired over-the-counter painkiller instead. Stimpacks had assisted greatly in the healing, and by the end of the third week, the arm was healed over and she could touch the end of it without pain. She avoided it, though. Despite Cait dragging her out of her own personal hell, she was still struggling with losing a part of herself. Of feeling useless. The sensation of a ghost limb was still there, but Edun had acclimated. The hardest part was reaching out for things and realizing she wasn’t actually reaching for them.

Apologizing to Preston had taken far more courage than she thought she had. She stood on his step, steeling herself, for a good half hour before she finally forced herself to knock. He answered the door with surprise in his eyes, stepping aside to let her in. She turned to him, her rehearsed-fifty-times-to-Dogmeat speech on her lips, the words dying in her throat when she saw the look in his eyes. She let her thoughts fall to the floor around her, discarded, as he swept her up in his arms. He  _ knew _ her. Without any words needing to be said, he knew the pain in her heart and the regret she felt for pushing him away. More than anything, he _understood_ it, and had waited for her to work through the wounds she carried inside as well as out.

Their reunion was gentle. He handled her gingerly, as though she were a delicate figurine; pressing soft kisses to her eyelids, cheeks, collarbones, the space between her breasts, the dent just above her navel, the hollows at the juxtaposition of her hips. Every movement was tender and deliberate, carefully placed, a universe of stars behind his eyes when he looked at her. It was both overwhelming and not enough. It was exactly what she’d needed. What they both needed. She lost herself in him, her missing arm and the darkness in her heart forgotten amidst the tangle of limbs and tongues and fevered kisses. They reached their peak together, his face buried in her neck while she clutched him to her as though he were the last bit of land in a world otherwise drowned.

After, he held her while she talked, unloading everything into the quiet space around them. He stroked her hair and listened to every word. He murmured nonsyllabic sounds of comfort, punctuated by little kisses to the top of her head, until she was done and there was no more left to say. Except for one thing.

“I love you, you know,” she told him in a tight voice, his chest warm beneath her cheek. “You’ve become a part of me, and...I can live without my arm. But I can’t live without  _ you. _ ”

“Edun,  _ my heart _ ,” he whispered into her hair, pulling her closer. “I love you, too.”

Both of them went about the rest of their day with private little smiles on their lips, and though Mama Murphy had long since sworn off the Jet at Edun’s behest, she nonetheless looked at them with sparkling and knowing eyes over the dinner table that night.

  
  
  


As she slowly gathered herself back, gluing together the broken pieces, Edun knew it was time to touch base with the Brotherhood. When she finally raised Danse on the radio, he was in full soldier mode, brusque and demanding. She knew it was borne of pressure handed down from Maxson himself, but after a terse exchange and an explanation of recent events, he dropped the abrasiveness and the voice of her friend returned.

_ “I’m coming to see you. We can discuss how to move forward from here.” _

“You don’t need to do that, Danse. I’ll drag myself out to the Glowing Sea when I can.”

_ “No. I’m coming out there. I...want to.” _

She protested further, but he insisted, and in less than two hours a vertibird was setting down outside of Sanctuary. She was surprised to see Danse out of his armor, and when she walked out to meet him he pulled her into a fierce hug. Her face was level with his broad chest, and the various pouches of his tactical vest dug into her cheek as he crushed her to him like a trash compactor squishing garbage. She let him, despite her fear of him popping a few ribs. He didn’t seem to give two figs about the entirety of Sanctuary seeing the show of affection, nor how the pilot of the vertibird might react. He just crushed her like a soda can until she finally tapped him on the arm.

“Danse,” she wheezed, “I can’t breathe.”

He abruptly released her, arms falling to his sides as he stepped back to take a look at her. She saw his eyes skim over the sleeve of her flannel shirt, pinned short to keep it from getting caught up in things.

“You look thin. Pale. Are you in pain?” He demanded. “What assistance can I provide?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt. I’m okay,” she answered softly. “It’s good to see you. I imagine Elder Maxson is furious with the delay.”

“He was, but after I explained the circumstances, he backed down. He understands the setback. He ordered me to check in with you and see if you require any help. If you would like, I could return to the Glowing Sea for Virgil’s blueprints.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I will go. But if you’d like to accompany me, that would be grand. I’m limited to one-handed weaponry at the moment.” 

“Of course,” Danse agreed at once. “I will send for our power armor. Yours should still function, even with…” He gestured at her left arm.

“Sounds good. Would you like to join the others for lunch? Mama made mirelurk cakes. I don’t eat the fishy stuff, but you might like them. I hear they’re pretty good.”

He seemed to contemplate the offer, then nodded. “Yes. I think it would be wise to acclimate myself to the rest of your unit.”

“My farmers with pitchforks? Yeah, they’re pretty great,” she answered with a wink. “I’ll meet you there. I’m going to grab something from my house that isn’t radioactive lobster to eat.”

Danse nodded and headed towards the little pavilion, and Edun turned and walked towards her home. Dogmeat was nowhere to be seen. He’d abandoned her to trip Mama Murphy all day, focused on the mouthwatering scent of mirelurk meat and cajoling her into dropping far too many scraps on the floor.

“Edun, do you have a moment?” Cait called softly from her doorway. Edun turned and waited for the woman to trot over.

“Sure, Cait. What’s crackin’?”

“I’ll walk with you,” Cait replied, falling into step with Edun. She seemed unusually subdued, and she had a rather deathly pallor about her. The smattering of freckles on her nose stood out like pen ink on white paper. There were dark circles under her eyes, as though she hadn’t slept in days.

“Are you alright?” Edun asked, concerned. “You look like shit.”

“I…” Cait seemed to struggle with the words. “I need your help. More than I’ve ever needed it. I hate to ask it of you. I know you’ve only just been through hell, but you’re the only person I trust.”

Edun stopped walking, her eyes serious. “If it is within my ability, it is yours. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s the chems. The fookin’ Psycho. Somethin’ ain’t right, Edun. I’m sick. Real sick. I’ve been coughin’ up blood, and my insides...they don’t feel right. I don’t think I have much time left. This shite is killin’ me.”

“What can we do?” Edun asked, alarmed. “You told me Addictol and doctors can’t help you.”

“Well, that’s where you come in,” Cait replied. “I’ve heard stories of a vault. Vault 95. Somewhere South of us. I guess Vault Tec locked up a bunch of junkies in there as some kind of experiment. Cured ‘em all of their addictions with a machine. Now, I don’t know if it might help me… but I think it’s me only chance.” 

Edun nodded. “I’ve heard of that vault. Out by the Northeast edge of the Glowing Sea. Didn’t know what they’d done in there, but as a walking and talking experiment myself...It doesn’t surprise me in the least.” She considered things for a moment. “Are you okay to travel? How sick are you?”

“I can manage,” Cait promised. “I can keep me shite together long enough.”

“Danse and I are planning a trip out to the Glowing Sea. We’ll take you along with us and stop at the vault first. We’ll get you taken care of before we go see Virgil.”

“I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth, but...I’m hardly in any shape to take a healthy dose of radiation,” Cait said nervously.

“You can wear my power armor,” Edun offered. “Danse is making me wear the big fancy suit I wore last time.”

“That pile of garbage in your garage?” Cait laughed. “Well, I suppose it’s not a fashion show, at any rate. That will work.”

“Hey,” Edun said defensively. “It’s not so bad. I fixed the sticky leg joint a while back. As long as it doesn’t rain you’ll be fine.”

“‘ _ Fine’ _ , she says,” Cait rolled her eyes. “Might be better to let the Psycho take me.”

  
  


-

  
  


Unfortunately for Cait, it did rain. It rained and it rained and it rained, and she bitched ceaselessly about her wet jumpsuit from inside the old T-45 armor. Danse was silent in his helmet, the quiet in itself speaking volumes of disapproval. In an attempt to make the fit feel less strange, Edun had deliberately locked her left arm’s joint. With no forearm to guide the gauntlet, it was all but useless anyway. In her other hand she hefted a fully loaded minigun. Sturges had helped rig it so the gun was actually technically mounted to the suit’s arm, the strength in the power armor allowing her to heft it one-handed. Loading it would be another matter entirely, but Cait had volunteered herself for loading duty, so ideally...it would sort itself out. That was before the heavens opened and Cait received a small, private shower from the comfort of her own suit, but...Edun hoped there was no grudge being carried. As close as she and Cait had grown over time, she didn’t doubt the woman would leave her for dead somewhere as punishment for a drenched backside.

Edun had told the big Paladin nothing about the purpose of their errand. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. It was more that it wasn’t her secret to share. She simply told him there was an item of interest within, and she had promised Cait an investigative trip. His eyes had gleamed at the potential of new technology for the Brotherhood, but Edun shut that thought down quickly, telling him it wasn’t that kind of thing. She didn’t know if the Brotherhood would have any sort of use for a machine that cured addiction, but she doubted it. They focused more on things that could be seen as dangerous, or were borne of science being taken too far. At least, so she was told. She often wondered if they didn’t have more insidious plans for the Institute and its technology within than simply shutting it down.

Cait had developed a hacking cough that deeply concerned Edun. She hoped that once they cured Cait of the Psycho addiction, the damage done to her body could be reversed. Stimpacks were an incredible resource, but she would also have to work on the woman’s diet of whiskey and cigarettes. Maybe sneak in some vegetables and meat. No carrots, though. She wasn’t some inhumane monster. Well, she might be, if the woman didn’t stop testing her nerves for five seconds. Their trip out here had been fraught with tension. Cait harbored a distinctive dislike for the Brotherhood, often referring to them as  _ jack-booted thugs,  _ and had spent nearly the entire trip harping on Danse relentlessly. Danse, in his typical unflappable spirit, largely ignored it. When he did respond, his rehearsed Brotherhood replies only further irritated and goaded Cait. Edun found herself repeatedly wishing she had a spray bottle, to punish them like errant cats.

The sky grew more ominous the closer they drew to the vault’s coordinates. Out here, the region on the edge of the glowing sea, it tended to be that way. There were more nasty creatures out here, too, residing within the borders of higher radioactivity. Edun had expected to feel useless, expected that her missing arm would encumber her, but with the power armor granting her the strength to heft such a formidable weapon, she hardly noticed. Super mutants infested a nearby junkyard, and Edun gave them as much hell as Danse or Cait did. It was the first time she’d stepped out of Sanctuary since arriving back home without her arm. She relished the freedom, and Dogmeat was clearly very pleased to be out and about again. He had definitely gotten a little thicker around the middle during her long rest. She was damnably weak when it came to him and snack cakes.

“So why the hell are you helpin’ Edun here, anyway? She refused to join your little club, didn’t she? What’s in it for you?” Cait demanded of Danse while Edun was busy breaking open a chest the super mutants had left behind.

“The Brotherhood recognizes her as an ally,” Danse responded stoically. “Our goals are aligned, and we exchange assistance and knowledge freely.” 

“What happens if those goals aren’t aligned someday? Would you kill her?” Cait’s voice was laden with suspicion.

“Cait,” Edun said, exasperated, turning on the two of them. The chest had held nothing but questionable pieces of meat. “Leave the poor man alone.”

“I have a right to know,” Cait insisted. “If he’s goin’ to shoot you in the back I want to be there to shoot him in his.”

“I’m not shooting anyone in the back,” Danse sighed. “The Brotherhood is only here to help the Commonwealth.”

“So if your Elder Maxi-Pad decided she was a threat and ordered you to shoot Edun right between the eyes, you wouldn’t do it?” Cait challenged.

“Cait!” Edun’s voice was sharper than intended, and she winced at the harshness of it. She never raised her voice like that. Not with anyone. Cait did not seem to notice or care. She carried on.

“Because if he did, and you tried, I’d fookin’ string you up like the settlers back in that barn, you hear me?”

“If you could lift me,” Danse answered drily. If Edun weren’t so aggravated with them, she might have laughed at the unexpected sauciness in that comment.

“Why you boot lickin’ son of a--”

“Quit! Both of you! For fuck’s sake I’m going to have to turn up Diamond City Radio full blast to drown this crap out!” Edun yelled. 

“She started it,” Danse pointed out, not at all miffed.

“I’ll be watching him, so you don’t have to,” Cait pronounced. Edun made a frustrated sound and marched out of the junkyard, feet stomping satisfyingly beneath her, the two of them slinking after her. Dogmeat looked up at her with an amused expression on his furry face. 

“Don’t be smug, you’re next,” Edun promised the dog. She needed to set those down two around a poker game and get the beer flowing. There had to be some way to get them off of each other’s throats. She’d worry about it later. For now, they had a vault to investigate. The entrance was hidden by a rocky outcrop, but as they circled the formation a large scaffold and vault entrance were revealed. The glowing lights in the faces of several Assaultrons guarding it put Edun on edge, and she hunkered down and motioned Cait over.

“What do you see?” She asked, pointing to the shifting forms as they moved about in the dim light. Cait pulled up her rifle and peered through the scope, moving back and forth as she investigated.

“Gunners,” she concluded. “A whole lot of Gunners, and a few Assaultrons. They look pretty cozy in there. Might be a bitch, diggin’ them out.”

“Gunners are my specialty,” Edun said grimly, to which Cait grinned wickedly.

“We will go in first,” Danse suggested. “You can hang back and provide cover fire.”

“Danse, I might be missing an arm, but I have a fucking minigun,” Edun pointed out. “My weapon does more damage.”

“And if you run out of ammo?” He protested.

“That’s where I come in,” Cait interjected. “See? We don’t need you. You can go on back to your sweet little airship now. The girls have it handled.”

He ignored her, waiting for Edun’s opinion. “It’s a big doorway,” she said at last. “Plenty of room for all of us. Except maybe Dogmeat. Too many snacks.” The dog chuffed at her indignantly and she chuckled. “But I’m taking those Assaultrons out with the minigun. Let me have a little fun before you usher me into a grave of boredom.”

“Be my guest,” Danse agreed. 

Edun hadn’t used a minigun since that day in Concord, and the weapon spun up like a washing machine from hell as the Assaultrons spotted them and rushed across the marshy grass towards them. She cut them down like weeds. Within the vault entrance, lights began to appear. The Gunners had heard the commotion and were responding. Edun suddenly wished Flight of the Valkyries was playing as she slid into her element like a duck into water. More Assaultrons and several Gunners rushed them as they entered the vault, but they did not have power armor and the trio opened fire as the loud  _ tinging  _ of ricochets filled the small space. Cait lobbed a couple grenades into the lobby of the vault, and the ensuing blast tore through the handful of Gunners hidden behind their barricades, firing from cover.

They worked their way deeper into the vault. With the worst of the fight out of the way, it came down to close quarters and Gunners burrowed in smaller side rooms. Edun let the two take the lead on that, as their weapons were a little less cumbersome in tight spaces. As nice as the minigun was, it was better for things like Deathclaws than precision shooting in broom closets. The vault itself was littered with the remains of its prior occupants, tattered vault suits covering bones. There were skeletons laid out on gurneys, draped over beds, crumpled within bathroom stalls. All had one thing in common - they still clutched old syringes, canisters, or hypos of their drug of choice.

“My god,” Edun said, crouching beside a skeleton with multiple spent Psycho syringes lying on the floor around it. “I don’t think this was a rehab facility by any means. It looks like they gave the residents as much - no, more - than they could handle. Sounds about right.”

“Poor bastards were trapped in here with their demons,” Danse commented sympathetically.

The worst part was the overseer’s room. A circle of aluminum chairs were in the center, coffee cups scattered where they had fallen. Skeletons lay about the floor or over the chairs, residents of the vault long-since dead. Their findings on an old private terminal for one RGUTIERREZ only confirmed what they had surmised. 

**Your orders are as follows:**

**Ensure all residents do not stray from the Vault-Tec rehabilitation program. It is paramount that it is strictly followed for our research objectives.**

**You will act as any other resident. Your backstory and identity should already be committed to memory and will not be recounted here. You are to work with the Overseer Elect on any compliance issues, while ensuring ignorance of your special objectives.**

**After five calendar years, your objective will shift. You will open the hidden storage compartment you were shown during your training. Allow the residents to discover the stash of chems within on their own. Once it has been discovered, you are to to thoroughly document the response of the community.**

  
  


“Well, that’s fucking monstrous,” Edun said as she clicked through. It would seem Gutierrez did as told, sneaking out five years later to reintroduce addictive substances into the vault. The consequences were all around them, crumbling bones beneath dusty vault suits. Cait was silent at the revelation, her face a mask of stone.

They found what they sought in the Detox facility. Edun hacked into the terminal on the wall, and the door shuttered open. There was a lobby inside, and two Gunners who immediately opened fire on the group. Edun let Cait and Danse handle it. She wasn’t about to spin up a minigun in an area possibly containing equipment they might need for Cait. When the Gunners were down, Edun crossed the room and peered through an observation window overlooking the next room. There was a chair inside, electrodes and some rather alarming looking devices mounted to it. This was it. The machine Cait sought. Edun turned to Danse, who was waiting patiently.

“Danse, could you...Give us a minute?” Edun requested. He dipped his helmet in acknowledgement and left the lobby without another word. By now he had guessed what was afoot, and had the tact to remain silent. Edun popped her helmet release, struggling to a moment to remove the cumbersome item, before breathing in the musty air of the vault. Cait had stepped out of her power armor and now stood in the doorway to the medical room, looking in, still as the bones around them.

“Are you ready for this?” Edun asked.

“I…I dunno,” Cait replied. “The answer to me problems is sittin’ in that room, and I dunno if I should go through with it. I mean, I know the Psycho is slowly killin’ me. But...What if it’s also the only thing keepin’ me together? What if this opens me eyes, and I don’t like what I see? There were  _ reasons _ I dulled the pain. Things I didn’t want to face. Things I was tryin’ to forget.” She held a hand to her face, her voice heavy with fear. “I’d rather be spittin’ blood than...relivin’ the past.” She leaned against the doorway, suddenly weak, staring at the medical chair. Edun pulled the release on her armor and stepped out of it, walking over to the woman as she stood there wrestling with herself..

“Whatever happens, we will face it together. Not so long ago, I was afraid, too. You told me I wouldn’t let any of you go into a fight alone that you couldn’t handle, and that I wasn’t alone in my fight either. That hasn’t changed. You’re not in this fight alone, Cait.” She reached down and took Cait’s hand in her solitary one, clasping it tight. “I’m  _ here _ . The Psycho is killing you. We know it is. And...I’m not ready to say goodbye to my friend. Not yet. We just got started on a beautiful thing.”

Cait turned her eyes to Edun, and Edun was surprised to see tears brimming against the vibrant green depths. She had never seen Cait cry. She had seen anger from Cait, rage and sorrow, to be sure...but Cait’s emotions tended to stay within the range of volatile, and seeing this reaction in her broke Edun’s heart. Cait surprised her then by smiling through the tears, a beatific expression that was clear of her usual guards. 

“You’d really miss me, wouldn’t you? Ya big sap,” she said as she wiped at her cheeks. Then she nodded. “Okay, let’s... Do this.” Edun released her, and Cait strode into the room and seated herself in the chair, her jaw clenched and resolute. Edun walked over to the Clean Room terminal. Edun was afraid it would not work. That her friend would either be harmed or disappointed. If the machine failed them, Edun would not stop until she figured out a way to help Cait. Maybe the Brotherhood had some resources. Maybe somewhere out there in the Wasteland, there was an experimental drug or program that might be of some use. She wouldn’t rest until Cait was cured of her addiction and freed of the chains that bound her. She held her breath and clicked to initiate the Toxin Purge.

Edun watched in alarm as restraints snapped into place over Cait’s wrists, and the devices to either side of Cait’s neck stabbed long needles into her. Cait let out a cry of surprise, her body going rigid with her efforts to remain still. The strange devices undulated, levers flapping as they did their work. After several minutes of watching Cait groan, gasp, and grind her teeth in pain, the machines stopped, withdrawing their long needles from her neck. Edun rushed to Cait’s side.

“Are you alright!?” She asked, watching as the restraints retracted back into the chair. “How do you feel?”

“I feel...Strange,” Cait replied, allowing Edun to help her out of the chair. “Everythin’ feels...different. Clearer. Colors, sounds, smells…” She looked down at her own hands, then reached out and ran her fingertips over the marred side of Edun’s face in wonder. Edun stayed perfectly still, unflinching. “Nothin’ is like I remember. Even you...your face...is different somehow.” 

“This is good, yeah?” Edun asked with a lopsided grin. “You’ve never molested my face before now.”

“The cravings…The pain...They’re gone,” Cait whispered in wonderment. “I haven’t felt like this since...I don’t know when.” She withdrew her hand with a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry, I...I don’t really know what to make of all this.”

“Well, if you’re done standing in this creepy vault, let’s get out of here. There’s a whole world of color and sounds and smells to experience now. Right after we journey through the gloomy green Glowing Sea, anyway.”

Cait let out a laugh. It was a new laugh - high and bright rather than coarse or roguish. “Lead the way. Beers are on me after this shite.”


	31. A Good Man

Danse deeply disapproved of Edun’s desire to have Sturges see what he could do with the blueprints given by Virgil. 

“Your best chance of it being built...and not only that, but built correctly...lies with the Brotherhood. This militia of yours is ill-equipped to deal with the likes of a foe such as the Institute,” he insisted as she walked him to his vertibird.

“War with them isn’t the next step,” she reminded him. “Getting _in_ is. Since that is likely a one-way trip for me, according to Sturges, it’s a nonissue. This is just recon, Danse. This isn’t the trumpet sounding. Not yet.”

He grimaced but kept walking. “How can we help each other if you won’t trust us?”

“I trust _you._ It’s your Elder I’m not so sure about.”

Danse shook his head. “Your personal feelings are irrelevant in this matter. Maxson will not be happy with this choice.”

“Remind him I am not one of his soldiers, but a free agent. It is my choice to make. I’ll get into the Institute _my_ way. My promise to share anything I find with his people still stands. I won’t freeze the Brotherhood out. Shared enemies, and shared friends.” She patted his steel pauldron companionably. 

“You’ll be the death of me, Edun,” he sighed. He turned to her, placing a heavy gauntlet on her right shoulder. “Please be careful when you go. The world would be considerably less interesting without you in it.” It was as close as he would get to saying, _please don’t die, I would mind very much if you did._

“We’ll share some beers on the Forecastle when I return,” she vowed, eyes sparkling up at him. He responded with a half-smile before climbing into the bird. She moved away as the rotors spun up, her hair twisting in the currents of wind, and watched it lift off in the direction of Boston. She hoped Maxson wasn’t too hard on Danse. She didn’t think he would be, though. _She_ was the problem here. The uncontrolled element they had allowed into their carefully organized ranks.

She had shown the blueprints to Sturges as soon as they arrived back in Sanctuary. The tall, lanky man pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and skimmed the messy rough sketches, puzzling through them as he shuffled them into order and then laid them out over the wide work table. He was deep in concentration while he worked, and Edun didn’t dare make a sound as she watched his brain click things into place little by little. After a good fifteen minutes, Sturges looked up at her and offered a lopsided grin. 

“Well boss, it’s a damn mess, but I think I can work with this. Looks like Dogmeat drew these, but...I can get it sorted.”

“How long will it take?” Edun asked, impatient.

“Hold on now,” Sturges chuckled. “The metal itself ain’t the issue, but I’m gonna have to write up a bit of a shopping list for you. There’s some components I don’t have, and am gonna need.”

“Okay,” Edun huffed. “Write it up. Your wishes are my commands.”

She had left him with his work to seek out Paladin Danse and explain her plan, before sending him on his way.

Preston was gone, off to deal with a roaming group of ghouls that had strayed too close to a settlement. Codsworth assured her the man had left with backup in the form of several other Minutemen, so Edun decided not to worry too much. With Sturges combing over the blueprints and working on a shopping list, she had time on her hands. That meant a bath was in order. Dogmeat, realizing her next activity didn’t involve food or fighting, trotted off down the street. She stuck her tongue out at the retreating furry back before ducking into her house and undressing with the finesse of a tornado.

After her bath, Edun threw a blanket over her shoulder and climbed the wooden ladder propped against her house. She lay out the blanket on the slope of the roof before easing herself down on it, fanning her damp hair out around her head the best she could. The warm afternoon sun caressed her skin and seeped into her bones, and she listened to the sounds of life throughout her neighborhood in relaxed and sleepy peace. Her time in the Wasteland had deepened her olive skin to a rich bronze, and she knew from the occasional once-over in her bathroom mirror that streaks of sun kissed hair now framed her face. She was different. Harder, somehow, despite the appearance of health. The commonwealth had given, and it had taken. The latter was still a source of pain for her, and she shut her eyes and focused on the feeling of sunlight on her skin. On the chatter of turrets, the laughter of Marcy in response to something Mama said, the wind rustling the leaves of Codsworth’s plants, and fell asleep.

She woke to soft footfalls coming towards her, and the silhouette of RJ blocked out the sun as it sank low over the hills.

“RJ, you’re ruining the view,” she groaned. Her hip was killing her. She was too old to be napping on hard surfaces now.

“You should be so lucky,” RJ replied, plopping down beside her and folding his long legs. “I _am_ the view.”

“You’re a jackass, is what you are,” she yawned. “What’s up?”

“Guess you found what you needed to get into the Institute, huh?” He asked.

“Yeah. Sturges is working on sorting out the blueprints. Then I’ve got to pick up some items for him before he can start building it in earnest.”

“You might not come back,” RJ said softly. He leaned back on the heels of his hands, flat against the warm roof. “What if you pop in there and they just...shoot you where you stand? Or…” and he wrinkled his nose at the thought, “Replace you with a synth?”

“I guess I’d be the first one-armed synth ever,” Edun replied easily, though she stung herself with the words.

“What if we...make a secret password. Then when you come back we can share it, and I’ll know it’s you,” he suggested.

“That’s ridiculous. If they can pick my brain well enough to copy me, they will figure that part out, too. Guess you’ll just have to trust it’s me.” She stretched and then finally sat up, her nap completely off the table now.

“I told you a while back that I had a son,” RJ said. “And a wife. Back in the Capital Waste.”

“Yes, I remember.” Edun crossed her legs and waited.

“My wife died, some time back.” 

“I’m sorry, honey. How did it happen?”

His Adams apple bobbed with emotion, remembering. “I got her killed. Led her into an abandoned part of the metro to camp for the night. I thought it was empty, but...it wasn’t. The place was infested with feral ghouls. They...fell on us, grabbed her...Before I could even get a shot off. Her screams drew more of them, and there was nothing I could do. They tore her apart right in front of me. I just...picked up our son and ran.”

“That’s terrible. What an awful thing to go through.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing. If it wouldn’t have been easier if we all died.” He wouldn’t look at her. He fiddled with the laces on a boot instead.

“No. You saved your son and gave him a life. That’s no small thing. It’s what your wife would have wanted.” 

“Her name was Lucy,” he whispered.

“It’s what Lucy would have wanted,” Edun insisted. “No mother would want for her child to die so young. You honored her.”

His breath hitched at her words, and she watched him struggle for control. “My son, Duncan...he’s why I’m here. One day he was out playing in the field behind our house, and the next...he was running a fever and was covered in blue boils all over his body. I did everything I could, but...he got so _weak_. I decided to hit the road and see if there was a cure out there somewhere.”

“Did you find one?” She asked, but she knew the answer. She could see it in the slump of his shoulders.

“No, not yet. But...I have a lead. Guy named Sinclair, another...hired gun, like me. He told me about how his partner developed some mysterious disease. Had the exact same symptoms my Duncan did. Fever, blue boils everywhere. It’s got to be the same thing, right? So...This Sinclair, he tells me he heard a rumor about some universal cure Med-Tek Research was working on before the war. He had the security codes and everything. I joined up with their party, but the place was crawling with feral ghouls. We couldn’t make it through. They pushed us back. And then Sinclair’s friend died before we could regroup and try again.” 

“He didn’t know about your son,” Edun guessed.

“I couldn’t tell him. He’d have caught on. He’d have known I planned to take it for my boy, and...I needed their help to get close. I’d do anything for Duncan. _Anything_ ,” He added, as though he needed to justify himself to her. 

“I know. I understand,” she said gently. “Is this your way of asking me to help you?”

“You’re the first person I’ve been able to trust out here,” He answered, nodding. “Look, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to rush you, or that...I don’t care. But...You’re the best hope I’ve got of getting that cure. And if you go into that teleporter thing and never come out...that hope dies with you.”

“RJ,” Edun sighed, stretching her legs out before her, “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I’m not made of glass. It sounds like this shit is urgent, and you _know_ I’ll help you. I’m only frustrated with you for sitting on this for so long. Haven’t I proven myself to you by now? I played Battleship with the Gunners for you, and if fighting a few ghouls means you can save your boy’s life...Yeah, duh, I’m all in. I’m waiting on some things from Sturges, and then we can head out. Shouldn’t be more than a day or two.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you. I could return all the caps you’ve paid me. That would be something.”

“Let’s make a deal. I won’t apologize for things I’m not responsible for, and you’ll stop trying to repay me for doing things any decent human would do.”

“That’s...Okay. Fine.” He gave her a rueful grin. “You _do_ apologize a lot.”

“I’m getting better at it. Say, who’s cooking tonight?”

“Sturges.”

She screwed her face up in horror. “Fuck. I’ve got leftovers in my fridge. Shall we?”

“After you.”

-

  
  


“What the heck is _she_ doing here?” RJ asked as Cait wandered into Edun’s home with a shotgun in each hand. Dogmeat trailed behind her, tail wagging.

“She’s going with us,” Edun answered patiently, struggling to buckle her holster one-handed. RJ moved as though to help her, but she shook her head and opted for pressing her hip to a door frame and thus pinning the holster in place for easier one-handed buckling. She was getting better at dressing, at least. Not that Preston had complained about helping her. Zippers just... had a tendency to go down rather than up when he was ‘helping’. The man was a nuisance. “If Med-Tek is as overrun as you say, we need more than just the two of us.”

“Try to keep your eyes on the road this time,” Cait sneered, handing one of the shotguns to Edun, who slung it over her right shoulder. It had been fitted with a drum magazine and would need less reloads. “I know how you like to eye me arse.” 

“Now, Cait,” Edun scolded. “We both know the only _arse_ he’s looking at is Ellie’s.”

RJ sputtered, and Cait seized on the opportunity.

“Oh, that’s right! I heard Nick had to kick them out. Said the sounds of the snoggin’ fest was overtaxin’ his hearin’ receptors. Damn near short circuited him.”

“He did not!” RJ fumed, face ripe-tato red. “I’ll be outside when the two of you are done clucking at me!” And with that, he marched out of the house.

Edun snickered. “Good one, Cait.”

“Oh, I was bein’ serious. Those two are quite the hot item now,” she answered with a grin. “Why do you think he’s always volunteerin’ to escort our caravans to Diamond City? He doesn’t even demand caps anymore.”

The news brought Edun some joy. That kid had been through a lot. He was far too young to be so careworn. Far too young to have suffered so much loss. Unfortunately, his story was not uncommon in this world. Tragedy was a piece of flair everyone wore on their suspenders here. She didn’t know what he planned to do once - if - they found the cure, but she hoped it didn’t mean breaking Ellie’s heart. She hadn’t known when she nudged the two of them together that his son was in the Capital Waste, waiting for him. She felt guilty at the thought of causing Ellie pain. Would he leave to return home?

“You gonna be alright handlin’ that thing?” Cait interrupted, gesturing at the shotgun. Edun answered by flipping the Mossberg up from where it hung on its sling fluidly, bringing it to point at her fridge, the handguard resting atop what remained of her left arm. _May God have mercy on the Nuka Cola, because I won’t._

“I’ve been practicing. Preston and I ran some drills to get me used to doing things differently.”

“You’re fookin’ somethin’ else,” Cait said, shaking her head. “Nothin’ slows you down for long, does it? Well, we’d best hit the road. I’ve got a whole arsenal of jokes to throw at RJ, and it’s a long walk.” Edun grinned. The dynamic between Cait, herself, and RJ reminded her strongly of the one she’d had with her siblings. She and her brother Ben had teased their younger sibling Alice relentlessly, to the point she refused to bring love interests home if either of them was around. RJ took their teasing mostly in stride, and though he would sometimes stormed off in a dramatic huff, he always came back for more.

Despite Cait’s initial fears, she seemed to be taking to her recovery well. Her eyes were bright, her skin slowly losing its blemished and haggard appearance. She had pink to her cheeks and lips, and she seemed far stronger. Rather than being fueled by drugs, she was now fueled by good sleep and decent meals. Edun had delivered on her promise. Cait had a bed, three square meals a day...but more than that, she had friends. Funnily enough, over time, Cait had grown close to the snappish Marcy. Maybe it had been their similar personalities, but Edun had seen the two of them sitting next to each other at dinner or walking companionably through the streets of Sanctuary on their guard shifts. Cait seemed more relaxed, more at ease...And though she had a long road to true recovery, one where she might finally let go of the terrible memories of her past, she was making great strides already. She had even given Dogmeat a treat on one occasion. Edun would not have believed it if she hadn’t witnessed it with her own eyes.

Edun wasn’t taking chances on this errand. She wore a steel chest plate, arm guards, and leg guards. If she was marching into a den of ghouls one-armed, she was going to do it well-protected. She could still use her pip boy for the most part, though it required some creative use of her nose. She tried to avoid it around strangers. Their staring eyes shouldn’t bother her, but they did. They stopped by Sturges’ garage on their way out of town, and he handed Edun a list of components and materials he needed. Edun figured they would swing through Bunker Hill before heading up to Med-Tek. That would allow her to purchase the materials and arrange for a caravan to deliver them while she dealt with searching for the cure.

-

Med-Tek was as bad as RJ had described it. The place was absolutely crawling with ghouls - both former staff and unwilling subjects, locked in and irradiated the day the bombs fell. The place was an absolute horror show. Med-Tek had absolutely no moral qualms about sacrificing human beings in exchange for the chance at government contracts. Edun wished it were an isolated occurrence, but she knew it was likely the norm among pharmaceutical and weapons manufacturers during the long war. The desperate race for an edge against Chinese troops had led to rampant greed and utter disregard for human life. There was some comfort in knowing that each bullet she and her team fired put these tortured beings to rest at last. Their final days had been nothing but horror at the hands of researchers. Now they were doomed to shuffle back and forth in their tiny cells until someone put a stop to it. So, put a stop to it Edun did. She felt cold fury and knew it was pointless. Those responsible for these atrocities were long gone. She supposed, much like all the others who had contributed to the country’s darkest secrets, the bombs had been their final consequence.

At the end of each hallway, as they cleared each room, the tension in RJ grew. She could see how desperate he was growing, his impatience getting the better of him the farther they went without results. In one room, an exam room of sorts full of bottles and the bones of dead scientists, he began to ransack the cabinets in a fury, beakers and vials scattering about where he flung them.

“RJ, it’s a big building. Come on. If this was as big of a deal as they thought it was going to be, it would be somewhere special. Somewhere secure,” Edun said, trying to sooth him, dodging a beaker as it flew past her.

“What if it’s not here?” He demanded, sagging against the laminate countertop. 

“It’s here,” Edun made her voice firm, assured. “And we’ll find it. But not flailing around like this. Come on.”

He followed her out, kicking viciously at a few of the bottles rolling across the floor. More rooms, more hallways, more ghouls, and several more long flights of stairs that led them deeper and deeper into the lower levels. Finally, they found a lab separate from the rest. It was built to be self-contained, almost like a clean room. Vents were closed over the windows. Within, resting on an autopsy table beside the bones of a dead test subject, lay a vial different from the rest. It was the cure. The final revision, never released to the world and left here in the ruined building for two centuries. She watched as RJ picked it up carefully, turning it over in his hand as though unsure it was real. Emotion clouded his eyes as he stared at it, the lines that had no business on his face deepening as he held the precious item to his chest. Edun and Cait gave him his space, backing away and looking over the room thoroughly to ensure the cure was truly one of a kind. Their search turned up nothing but dusty lab coats and useless notes. After a time, RJ cleared his throat, collected himself, and walked out of the lab. The women followed his lead out of the now-silent research facility.

Back on the surface with the looming building dwindling behind them and the road stretching out before them, RJ finally spoke again.

“I need to get this to Goodneighbor as quickly as possible. Daisy can send to the Capital Waste on the first caravan out of here.”

“You’re not...taking it to the Capital yourself?” Edun asked carefully. She didn’t want to pry, but she wasn’t sure why he was handing something so precious off to Daisy.

He shook his head. “No. Not yet. One of her caravans can get this to him. I...am not done here yet. I plan on seeing this whole Institute through to the end with you. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Edun said. “It’s okay if you need to go to your son.”

“No,” Duncan insisted. “Before I left, I promised him I would become a better man. It’s why...I try so hard not to cuss. Why I left the Gunners. Why I don’t take jobs with questionable motives. I want to be a good man, for my son. And a good man wouldn’t leave a friend to fight a war alone.”

“Well, all those gosh-darns and shucky-durns make sense now,” Edun stated mildly. Behind her, Cait chortled.

“I know it’s hard to understand, but...I figure with only one parent, I’ve got to be a worthwhile example. I owe Lucy’s memory that much.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Edun agreed. “I can only hope I’m half the example you are when I get Shaun back. You’re a good man, RJ. We all see it, even if you don’t. You will, someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters start getting into the heart of things, and are Institute-heavy. Buckle in :)


	32. The Truth Shall Set You Free

Edun threw herself into helping Sturges assemble the relay the best she could. His skillset far exceeded her own, but she could do the basics with one hand. Things like Insert Tab A into Slot B, or...  _ Pull that red wire. Not the orange one, the red one. Edun if you pull that red wire you’re gonna short the whole dang thing out, be careful.  _ Sturges was the kind of person who was great...at working alone. Together, he got a little bossy. Edun was of half a mind to kick him into the river by the end of the first day.

As Virgil’s schematics slowly took shape and the structure at the center of Sanctuary became so tall it began to cast a long shadow, Preston grew moodier. He walked his patrols around Sanctuary like he had a little storm cloud over him. When he kissed her goodbye to go check on a settlement or escort a caravan, his eyes were distant and distracted. She knew what was looming over him, for it loomed over her as well. The unknowns surrounding her upcoming trip to the institute scared the shit out of her. She hadn’t been in the Commonwealth all  _ that  _ long, but she hadn’t once heard a good thing about the Institute. The very name of the organization brought fear to people’s eyes. They had a tendency to pull their children closer or tighten the lines of their mouths at the mention of it. Edun didn’t have much to go off of, other than what she had seen… and the bizarre encounter with the Courser at Greenetech was an event she returned to over and over again in her mind. He had refused to fight her. He had allowed himself to be killed rather than offer her any resistance, even though it was clear he did not want to die.

That disturbed her more than anything. The Institute’s hold over the Courser had been his end. Was that proof of a string being pulled? Confirmation of Danse’s suspicions that the Institute was an able puppeteer, controlling their creations from their secret headquarters? If they could do that, what else  _ could  _ they do? She hated fear and paranoia. It was as catching as the flu, and she was angry with herself for letting the Brotherhood’s broad assertions cloud her judgement. Still, the thoughts came unbidden. She knew enough of history, had seen enough of the end of civilization, to know better than to doubt the doubtful entirely. The Brotherhood were doubters, viewing mankind’s efforts to be technologically and scientifically superior as a curse and a danger. They weren’t wrong. The Wasteland around her was a reflection of that.

Several days passed like this. Preston ranging out on Minutemen missions, Edun working alongside Sturges to construct Virgil’s designs, and a grand canyon of distance growing between her and the man she loved. Even their lovemaking had taken an edge to it, frenetic and wild sessions before exhausted slumber. She wasn’t complaining, necessarily. Sex was cake. Always good. But the strained intimacy, though she understood it, was not something she wanted left unchecked before she stepped onto that relay platform. She’d fucked up a lot of things in her life, but she refused to fuck this up. He mattered far too much. She would be leaving the following morning. Everything was done, the final touches completed. The relay was operational.

He got home late that night, and Edun roused herself as his weight settled on the edge of the bed. He pulled off his boots one by one with a sigh of relief. She sat up and crawled across the mattress to him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arm around his back.

“Talk to me,” she said softly, kissing his shoulder. He smelled like sweat and earth; the open road and summer heat.

“You leave tomorrow.” His voice was heavy, resigned. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, and I...don’t know if I can bear it.”

“You don’t know that. Look at me.” He did, his dark eyes meeting hers. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m pretty hard to kill. I have an annoying way of popping back up. This isn’t going to be any different. I’m going to go in there, find Shaun, and run like hell. I’ll be back by dinner. Okay?”

“And if you’re not?” He asked in a low voice. “If you’re not back by dinner? If you’re not back after a week? A month? What do I do, then?”

“You keep going. You continue to build what we have worked so hard on. You remember me, and you keep putting one foot in front of the other.” 

“Don’t ask that of me,” his voice cracked. “Don’t ask me to just live my life as though it doesn’t matter that you’re gone.”

“I’m not gone. Not yet.” She rubbed his back, her palm making lazy circles against the tight muscles between his shoulders. “I’m just saying  _ if.  _ Worst case scenario. Preston, I love you, but...I’ve got to do this. This isn’t for the Brotherhood or the Commonwealth this time. This is for me.”

“I know,” he said with a jerky nod. “I’m not asking you to stay. I’m just terrified this is the last time I will see you.”

She sighed and let her head rest against him, and they sat like that for some time. His breathing was ragged, as though he had just run a great distance. 

“There is something I need you to do before I go,” she spoke at last.

“Of course. Anything you need,” he answered immediately.

“Promise me you’ll do it? Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“Cross my heart.”

“It’s time for you to take your place as General of the Minutemen.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from him. “You don’t think you’re coming back either,” he stated.

She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just...time. You’re ready. Haven’t you noticed how everywhere we go, people stop you and thank you for what you’ve done? They don’t thank me. They don’t even look at me. They  _ know _ you’re the true leader of the Minutemen, just as much as I know it. I’ve spent weeks dawdling across the Wasteland doing my own thing while you kept operations going on your own.” She rested her chin on his shoulder, looking up at the strong and noble face she had come to love so much. “Don’t you see, Preston? You have been the acting General this entire time. I just carried the name plate for you.”

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it,” he said ruefully.

“I never lied about my intentions. I knew you needed time to get yourself together again. I was happy to carry it until you found the strength to.”

He turned to her, cradling her face in his palms and pressing his forehead to hers. “You come back to me, Edun Kowalski. It’s not optional. You can’t make me love you like this and not come back. You  _ can’t. _ Okay?”

“Okay,” her voice was the softest of whispers. “I will come back. I promise. No matter what, I will come back.”  _ Please,  _ she begged the universe,  _ let there be a way for me to come out of this intact. Don’t make me break this beautiful man’s heart.  _

The turmoil in him was far from resolved, but at her words it felt as though a spell was broken. He pulled her in for a kiss, and then another, and for the next little while neither of them allowed thoughts of the future to get between them.

-

Edun wasn’t sure what to expect when she stepped out of the relay room. She clutched the holotape Sturges had thrust into her hands last minute and looked around the control room before her. Her eyes fell on the lone terminal in the room, and Edun sat down before it and popped the holotape in. It was no ordinary holotape, Sturges had explained. It was a Network Scanner, and it would download every scrap of information the Institute had on their network. Assuming she made it back to him, they would have a very clear picture to paint of the Institute and its true intentions and motivations. It was comforting to know she would have hard proof to back up arguments for or against them.

When the words SCAN COMPLETE appeared on the screen, she ejected the tape and carefully stored it in a hidden pocket stitched into the lining of her flight suit. Barring a body search that would be thorough enough to border on obscene, nobody would detect it. If she was detained, the tape would be safe until she could worm her way out of the predicament. She wasn’t above climbing through ducting. She’d seen it in a spy movie once. With the network scan complete, she moved around the room. She hadn’t seen a place so clean and without decay since the vault. Clearly this place was well beneath the surface; far enough down it was entirely sheltered from the disastrous events above ground. Down a flight of stairs there was a large glass elevator, and Edun moved down them slowly. She didn’t know what she was waiting for. Acid rain from sprinklers, maybe. Poisoned gas that would melt her eyeballs. A thousand machine gun turrets appearing from secret hatches and opening fire on her. Nothing met her but a soft hiss as the elevator door slid open. Then a voice, deep but somehow gentle, greeted her from the speakers overhead. Despite the unobtrusive nature of it, she nearly leaped out of her skin and let out a startled yell.

_ “Hello,” _ the voice said.  _ “I have dreamed of this day for so long, and at last...you are here. Please, step into the elevator. We have so much to discuss.” _

Edun hesitated. The words did not sound like the words of an evil shadow organization planning to laser her to death, but in a way the familiarity of them worried her more.  _ They had dreamed of this day? What was this?  _ The voice did not repeat the request, and she wasn’t sure if she was being watched in real time or what. The thought of someone sitting in a command room watching her on a screen made her skin crawl, but she couldn’t back out now. That chance had flown out the window five minutes ago. She steeled herself and stepped into the elevator. It was elegant in design, a sleek and modern cylinder of anodized aluminum and glass. As soon as she was inside, the door closed behind her and the elevator glided into motion. The voice began to speak to her again, closer now, coming from a speaker on the ceiling of the elevator itself.

_ “By now you have heard many things about us. Tall tales, rumors, stories that inspire fear and dread. The people of the Commonwealth do not understand us, and so they fill in the blanks with misinformation and personal terror. None of it has any truth, of course. The Institute has only one goal in mind: the salvation of mankind. We have dedicated ourselves to science, and have made incredible strides in overcoming the effects of radiation, disease, and drought. We are building a future beyond simple survival. I...can’t wait to show you everything.” _

Edun was pretty sure this was the speech every villain gave as the hapless hero descended into the secret lair, right before turning wacky and trying to kill said hero with a death ray, but she would wait and see. The elevator cleared the tunnel, and she found herself descending through an enormous atrium. Gen 2 synths patrolled idyllic walkways. Men and women in white and blue jumpsuits chatted, walked, ate at little tables, or relaxed on benches. Children could be seen below, running and playing. Edun was struck by the sheer enormity of the structure. The Institute was absolutely massive. She couldn’t imagine how much ground it actually spanned beneath the CIT ruins. It wasn’t just some lab underground...it was an entire city. A  _ populated  _ city. She didn’t think she had seen so many children all at once in her entire time on the surface. Watching them play, she wondered if Shaun was down there. She remembered Kellogg’s words.  _ He’s in a good place. Somewhere he’s safe, loved, comfortable.  _ Again, she felt doubt over her intentions. Maybe he’d been right all along. This wasn’t the cold and hostile lab she’d envisioned Shaun in all this time.

The elevator took her through the atrium and down several more floors before coming to a smooth halt. The doors opened, and an empty hallway awaited her.

_ “But for now...We will address the true matter for your visit here. You have come for a very personal reason. You are here to find your son. I will explain everything to you. Your search is finally drawing to an end.”  _

The hallway led her to another elevator, and after a short transition, she entered another hallway. She followed along it, her eyes taking in her surroundings. Everything was pristine, white,  _ clean.  _ She felt as though she had been transported into another world. She supposed she had. The people down here had lived a much different life from those on the surface. They had never faced hardship or hunger. Never feared for their lives. Never been shot by raiders or had to worry about being eaten by super mutants. Instead, they had hidden down here and stayed nice and cozy for over a hundred years at least. She knew it wasn’t a fair thought, but it still pissed her off. She felt a little like punching a wall, Paladin Danse style.

At the end of the hall, a man was waiting for her. He was tall and lean. The sort of stature that had the potential to be imposing, but was softened by a life of gentle work. He wore a sweater, crisply ironed slacks, and a white doctor’s coat. His hair was a mix of salt and pepper; heavier on the pepper. His brows were still dark, though a few strands of silver shot through them. He was handsome, a fact not lessened by age. He regarded her with dark brown eyes, and the emotion in them confused her. She had never seen this man in all her life, but he looked at her as though they were old acquaintances who were finally being reunited. He looked...overjoyed to see her. She stopped a good ten feet away, uneasy, taking him in warily. He saw her hesitation and spread his hands in a gesture of peace.

“Welcome to the Institute,” he said warmly. It was the voice from the overhead speaker, gentle despite the masculine depth to it. “This has been such a  _ long _ time coming.”

Edun let her shotgun go, the sling catching it, and rubbed at the back of her neck. She felt like a giant sore thumb in this flawless place, clad in her dusty flight suit with her face half-melted. “Why do I get the feeling you know me but I don’t know you?”

“You  _ do _ know me. Or, you did. You have been looking for me for a long time. I am the reason you fought so hard to get here.”

Edun was frustrated by the cryptic words. She scrutinized him with narrow eyes. He looked familiar, though she was sure she’d never met him. Someone this gentle, soft, and refined simply couldn’t be found in the Commonwealth. He waited patiently, hoping for a reaction from her. It came slowly. A memory from another time coming slowly to focus in her mind’s eye.

_ “You’re fucking...cheating,” Church was absolutely shit-faced, and he grumpily flicked his remaining stack of chips over. They cascaded across the table, and he took another swig of his beer. _

_ “I’m a pilot, not a card shark,” Edun corrected him while the others roared with laughter. “I won this hand fair and square. Just like the last one, and the one before that. You’re just better at shooting things than you are at poker, Church. Now, come on. You know what else is required.” _

_ He looked across the folding metal table at her, his dark eyes dancing with mirth despite the show he was putting on. He was sweating in the heat of the small bunker, deep brown hair falling over his forehead. He sighed, staggered to his feet, and removed one sock. He was down to only his regulation undershorts and one remaining sad olive drab sock. Otherwise he was entirely bare. The rest of the crew were missing items here or there. Mac was faring much better. He had only lost one item this time, opting for his jacket. The stakes were high. Whoever ended up completely naked first had to streak through the camp and run past the central command building. _

_ Edun was fully clad, the enormous stacks of poker chips in front of her casting shadows like trees before the small halogen lamp. She chuckled and threw one of her chips at Church. _

_ “There, you’re back in. Make it count. There are some things only your wife should see.” _

  
  


She would know that face anywhere. It was different, of course. Diluted by half of another genetic code. Age and the lines that came with it altered some of the characteristics, but...it was there. The same eyes. The same deep dimples that showed at the slightest movement of his mouth; dimples both his parents had. The long, slightly downturned nose. The wealth of once-dark hair atop his head. He was Church’s son, through and through. He was not a boy of ten. Not the boy she had seen. Perhaps the boy was...Shaun’s own son? She didn’t understand, and the more she grasped at the slippery thought at the edge of her consciousness, the more it eluded her.

“You see it,” he observed, taking a step closer to her. “Say it. Let me hear that you understand now.”

“You’re... _ Shaun _ . You’re the spitting image of your father. Older than he was, yes...but there’s no doubt about it.” She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Walls drew in close around her, and she swayed for a moment, struggling to keep her footing. “How? How is this possible? I...saw you. I saw you in Kellogg’s memories. You were a  _ child _ .” 

“You initially believed after you woke that ten years had passed since I was taken. Is it so hard to believe that it was not ten years, but sixty?” His voice was gentle as he tried to ease her into the shock. “The child you saw...was a prototype. He was not your son. I am.” 

_ Woah. That was a lot to process. First of all, there was a fucking child synth? That was possible now? Did it come from...synth parents? Second of all, oh boy, there was a long, long talk to be had.  _ He thought she was his  _ mother. _ That explained the anticipation she’d sensed in him. The hope, the longing, the desperation for recognition. He thought this was a family reunion. She was scrambling, her thoughts scattered like bits of a broken vase. Everything was wrong. This was all completely fucked up. She had come here for a child. For a boy of ten. Instead, this grown man stood before her. She had failed completely. She couldn’t stay upright anymore. She couldn’t answer him. She sank to her knees in the middle of that pristine room, covered her mouth with the only hand she had left, and desperately struggled to control herself. The roaring in her ears was deafening. She wanted to scream and cry and break things, and she couldn’t do that. Not here. So she covered her traitorous mouth. She had  _ one fucking job.  _ Just one. And now...it was too late.  _ Sixty years _ too late.

Shaun joined her on the floor, to her surprise. He was slower getting down there, but he sank to his knees as well and rested his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes.

“I know you’ve come a very long way, and you have overcome much to get here.” His gaze moved over her scarred face and the stump where her left arm used to be. “You don’t have to take this all in at once. We have time. I just want to show you my world. I want to show you the  _ incredible  _ things we have done here. I want you...to be a part of it. When you are ready, I will show you everything. But for now, maybe we find somewhere to sit down and I get you a glass of cold water. Would you like that?”

She nodded, eyes staring forward. In a ludicrous moment, she found herself focusing on the weave of his sweater’s fabric. On the absolute cleanliness of his coat and the sharp crease ironed into his slacks. She let him help her up, finally lowering her hand. He guided her out of the room and up some stairs, into an area that appeared to be both his office and an attachment to his living quarters. He led her to a plush white couch and bade her sit. She did, the strength gone from her, and stared stupidly around her until he returned with a tall glass of cool, purified water. He handed it to her, and she took a long drink of it. As she did, he grabbed the rolling chair from his desk and pulled it over to her, settling down in it across from her. She felt his eyes on her, curious and hungry for more from her. She finally pulled the glass away, clutching it like a lifeline in her hand.

“The Courser I ran into at Greenetech... The one I took the chip from... He  _ recognized _ me. He wouldn’t fight me. I asked him why and he said...he said he wasn’t  _ allowed _ . That was because of you, wasn’t it?”

“I would never let one of my creations bring you to any harm,” Shaun affirmed. “A Courser is a formidable opponent, even to someone like my mother. They were strictly forbidden from interacting with you aboveground, but it would seem you forced his hand when you cornered him during his mission.”

“You’ve been watching me, then. How long?”

“Since you found your way out of that vault. I’ve kept my distance. I wanted you to find me of your own accord. I was afraid the Wasteland would either claim you or change you, but you have been remarkably...stalwart. You have adapted to each new challenge, and fought your way through to me regardless of them. You are a truly remarkable woman. Everyone here has been impressed by you.”

“Your people...They know about me, too, then?”

“But of course. I have long planned for you to join me here. It was merely a question of  _ when  _ rather than  _ if.” _

She couldn’t let this continue. He was being kind to her. Tender, even. He thought she was his mother. He thought she was Nora. The thought of telling him was a knife twisting in her gut. He would either be devastated or angry. Maybe both. And once she told him...He had absolutely no reason to keep her alive. The ties binding him to her would be cut, and the truth would be spilled out for all to know. She was no better equipped to deliver this kind of news than she was all that time ago, standing on the step of his family home. She almost faltered. She considered letting him believe what he would, riding out the lie until she could get the hell out of here and disappear into the Commonwealth. A cowardly solution that her debilitating guilt begged for. But no. That wasn’t who she was, and she would rather die than let deceit be her legacy. If being honest meant he turned on her in a rage and had her killed, then so be it. She’d go with her integrity intact.  _ The truth will set you free, Edun.  _

“Shaun, there is something you should know about me. And...I don’t really know how to say it.”

“You can tell me anything,” he said earnestly. “I don’t care what you had to do to survive aboveground. None of it matters now. You are here with me, and you are safe.”

“Don’t say things you might not mean in a moment,” she advised, her grip tightening on the glass. It was slick with condensation. “The truth is...I am not your mother. I never was.”

“I know you weren’t there for me growing up, but that wasn’t within your control. You had no choice,” he soothed.  _ Christ. He’s so desperate for this idea in his head to be reality that he’s not listening to me. He’s just...filling in the blanks to fit his narrative.  _ This was going to be harder than she wanted it to be.

“No,” she said firmly. “That’s not what I mean. I mean your real mother died the day the bombs fell. She begged me to take you with me and assume her place in the vault. It’s...a long story. But if you will let me, I would like to tell it. I’ve been waiting a very long time and jumped a lot of hurdles to find you, and explain everything to you.” 

She saw him absorb her words, mulling them over, then watched him pull away from her - both physically and emotionally. He rolled his chair back, distancing himself, and looked at her with the sharp eyes of a 60 year old man who had just been stung. He folded his arms over his chest, an unconscious gesture of guarding oneself.

“Start from the beginning.” His voice was laden with mistrust.


	33. Mankind Redefined

Shaun stared at the tattered photograph in his hand. Over her time in the waste, the photo had not been unscathed. The edges were curled, the creases deeper. There was a stain on the back; a bloody thumbprint from the day she snatched it back from Eggs’ corpse. Despite all this, the image was still clear. The woman who had given birth to Shaun, laughing, hands on her hips. She was beautiful, happy, bright and glowing. How much her life would change in the year to come.

“She was pregnant with you in that photo,” Edun said softly. “Your father must have taken it. According to him, she only smiled for him. It was what he loved about the photo...Why he chose that one. It was the only one where she was smiling like that.”

“You brought this back...you’ve had this all this time...For me?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

“I didn’t want you growing up without a piece of them... Of your parents. I only wish I had one of Nathan. He was handsome. There’s a lot of him in you. Though...you resemble them both, the more I look at you.”

“You said she died the day the bombs fell, but you haven’t explained why. Why did my mother have to die, but you somehow made it out unscathed? Why did she trust me to you? By your own account, she didn’t know you.” He wanted answers, and she did not take offense to his inquiries. She only wished she could spare him this part. It was easier to tell someone their parent died a war hero than to share their deepest despair.

“She...struggled terribly, after losing your father. Death is never easy to accept, but for her...a new mother, alone in a new neighborhood and far from family...It was too much. She spiraled out of control. By the time I arrived, it was too late. She made a choice to end it on her own terms. She was gone before the bomb hit Boston.”

She watched him struggle with comprehension, his brows drawing down in an expression of deep sorrow. “So, after all these years...All the dreams I had, the plans I made...They meant nothing. I was an orphan before I ever went into that vault. I was alone from the beginning.”

Almost reflexively, she placed her hand over one of his. “You were never alone. It might have taken me sixty years, but I  _ found  _ you.”

“Forgive me if I do not find comfort in that,” Shaun replied. His words were not meant to be harsh, she knew. “My father’s battle buddy seeking me out of misplaced survivor’s guilt is...not what I’d hoped for today.”

“I’m not so bad,” she said softly. “I might be missing an arm and have a few screws loose, but I’m here.”

“What did you plan to do once you found me?” He asked. 

“I didn’t have an  _ exact  _ plan. There were too many unknowns for that. I thought the Institute was more of a prison than anything, and I figured I’d try to rescue you from it. Maybe eke out an honest life somewhere, farming or trading. I know I’m not family. Not even close. But I thought maybe I could be something like a parent to you. If you needed me.”

She watched his lips curve into a smile at that. “You were going to become a  _ corn farmer _ for me? A woman of your capability? It would have been a waste. But your concern for me was wasted. I have had a good life here. I have been raised as one of their own. And when the time came, I took my place as Director of the Institute. Not quite the life of a farmer, but a reasonably good one.”

“You’re the  _ Director _ of this place?” If her eyebrows went any higher, they would disappear.

“I am. The child you were so worried about grew to be a rather accomplished man, it would seem.”

“I’m sorry,” she burst out, ignoring the scolding RJ in the back of her mind.

“Sorry for what?” Shaun asked, looking surprised.

“For any moment in your life you ever felt alone, or like you didn’t belong. For any of the times you felt as though something important was missing. I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

He studied her quietly for a moment, eyes unreadable. “It does not matter, in the end. Not unless you have a way to change the past. However, this is not a case of  _ too little too late. _ You have given me closure, a sense of my origins, and a tangible piece of my history. These are gifts I do not take for granted. Please. Allow me to return the kindness.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she held up her hand. “I don’t need anything from you. I’m just glad I could have this talk without getting laser beamed.”

“I can give you your arm back,” he said quietly. She felt her jaw drop open at the words, too overwhelmed to close it again. “And, if you would like, I can repair the damage to your face. The last physical reminder of a terrible night that changed both our lives forever.”

Her right hand came up automatically to touch the left side of her face, fingers running over the twisted and jagged lines as they had a thousand times before. The point he had made - about it being a physical reminder of an event that would change her life forever - that was exactly why she hesitated now. Removing the scars felt like...Removing a part of herself. A part that mattered. But to have her  _ arm  _ back...the thought made her eyes sting. These were the people that made  _ synths.  _ A prosthetic from them would arguably be more useful than her remaining arm. 

“You would do that for me?” She found herself to be disbelieving. All she had done was bring disappointment and grief to him. She had failed him, too. And yet... he wished to help her?

“I would, and I can. I realize you are not the woman I thought you were, but...perhaps you are _more_ than that. Let me give you a tour of the Institute. I will show you how we can repair your arm, and introduce you to the fine men and women that run this place. Will you join me?”  He stood and held out a hand to her. Feeling somewhat confused and more than a little in shock, she accepted it, rising to her feet and following him out of the clean, cool office.

-

“Why did the Institute find it necessary to kidnap a baby?” Edun asked as they exited BioScience. The Institute was staggering, impressive, and it was hard not to let her mouth hang open in awe. He was right. They  _ had  _ achieved impressive things. The genetically modified crops they had just casually walked through were the sort that would solve hunger problems aboveground for good. Shaun had been explaining as best he could the history behind the Institute, starting with their initially symbiotic relationship with the Commonwealth. The relay had changed everything, allowing the Institute to seal itself off from the rest of the world. They had hidden away down here, lost in their experiments and focused on their efforts to improve the synth design. She had seen her share of Gen 1 and 2 synths by now, between ArcJet and Kellogg’s memories, but until coming here she had - to her knowledge, at least - only seen one of the Gen 3s. The Courser, in Greenetech.

“The human genome was the basis for the perfection of the Gen 3,” Shaun explained, gesturing her through the door. “But radiation had affected the DNA of every human alive. Even those within the Institute. The bombs changed humanity in a very real and fundamental sense. When the Institute learned of Vault 111, and discovered living examples of the purest form of human DNA inside, it was the first time they dared to hope. Naturally, being an infant, I was their best source for entirely uncorrupted DNA. They left you frozen as a contingency. If something were to happen to me...They would still have you. My DNA became the basis of the synthetic organics used to create every human-like synth you see today. It is why they call me...Father. A little nickname, if you will, that grew into something more.”

“Their errand boy, Kellogg, shot me. Twice, actually,” Edun growled.

“He was...a loose cannon. I did not learn of his actions until I assumed my role as Director. What he did to you was reprehensible, but he believed it necessary.” 

“He’s dead, now. Guess that worked out.” The memory of him filled her with anger, and she made an effort to rein it in. “But you kept him on, even after your promotion. Why?”

“He was a useful tool. As a soldier, I am sure you understand. Sometimes you need someone to do the tasks others cannot...or will not. Ah, this is Robotics. This is what I wanted to show you most. Come.” He led her through the department door. As they passed, Edun could feel the eyes of multiple Gen 2 synths staring at her. It gave her the creeps.

Robotics opened up into an enormous white room filled with machinery. It took her a moment to visually sort out what was happening. An enormous piece of equipment to her immediate left was...wait...it was 3D printing  _ bone.  _ She stood completely still, staring as a human skeleton took shape before her eyes. She turned a shocked gaze towards Shaun, who was watching her with what appeared to be both amusement and excitement. He was enjoying her stunned reaction. She turned her eyes back to the marvel before her, mouth agape as the machine finished with the crests of the ocular bones on the skull. Cartilage and ligaments were added simultaneously as the machine hummed and moved smoothly back and forth. The framework for a human being was lying suspended in a circular frame, a cat’s cradle of fibers holding it in place. Edun stepped back in alarm as robotic arms seized the frame, lifting it and moving it to another side of the room before locking it in place once more. Edun followed, entranced.

Another machine set to work, crafting a central nervous system and organs with blinding speed. Human beings, one of the most intricate and perfect organisms on earth, could be... _ manufactured _ , as easily as a Giddyup Buttercup. The thought absolutely astonished Edun. She could only imagine how violently Elder Maxson would object to such a thing. If he stood where she did now, no doubt he would burst a blood vessel. This was the very definition of playing God. There was no gray area here. The Institute could build an entire living being in seven minutes, not seven days. The machine continued to rapid-fire progress, now filling in the red and white muscle tissues.

“What do you think?” Shaun asked, breaking her trance. She looked at him and realized her mouth was still hanging open and closed it. She shook her head.

“This is...Incredible. I can’t believe I’m seeing this. I can’t believe this is...possible.”

“It  _ is _ a marvel, isn’t it?” He agreed. “The synths we are creating here are identical to you or me. There is a synth component, to be sure. Here.” He tapped at his temple to indicate the brain. “But in all other aspects they are indecipherable from any natural born human. They are immune to disease, to radiation. They are mankind...redefined, if you will. A better version of ourselves.”

“So when you say the Institute is the best hope for humanity...this is what you mean,” she concluded. “Making humans who can withstand the challenges aboveground.”

“That is our ultimate goal, yes,” Shaun acknowledged. “But we are not ready for that...phase yet.”

A machine swooped in with multiple long needles, and Edun let their conversation falter as she watched it inject blood into the subject, accompanied by a series of electric shocks. It sounded just like a defibrillator, and color flooded the half-finished man as his heart began to beat and his new system jumped into action. Robotic arms once again lifted the frame, rotating it horizontally and lowering it into an enormous recessed vat of red liquid. She waited for more arms to lift the frame back out, but gasped when the man clambered out of the liquid himself. He was perfectly formed; the musculature of a soldier. She wondered absently if she was looking at a future Courser. He certainly hadn’t been made for sweeping a cafeteria. She watched him stretch, naked as...well, the day he was born...examining his hands, curling and unfurling the fingers. She was watching a  _ sentient being _ come into awareness, and the magnitude of it was not lost on her.

One of the scientists monitoring the progress stepped forward and uttered a command to the new synth. Wonder and confusion left his face, and something automatic seemed to take over. He stepped out of the vat and walked down a narrow walkway and through a door on the other side of the room. The door slid closed behind him, cutting him off from her view.

“Holy shit,” Edun breathed. “I feel like I just witnessed the birth of creation.”

Shaun chuckled. “It never gets old. I have watched the process many times, but I still find comfort in it. In times when I find myself burdened with doubt, I come down here and watch the process. It always centers me, focuses me. It reminds me of our purpose.” He took her gently by the elbow and led her over to a slim blond man inputting notes on a terminal. The man looked up as they approached and inclined his head.

“Father. What brings you down here today?” His voice was friendly, respectful.

“Alan,” Shaun returned the greeting. “This is...Edun. She has a problem I would like you to help her with. Edun, this is Alan Binet, head of Robotics. He is one of the Institute’s finest. He has been instrumental in the creation of the Gen 3 synths. He is the man who can repair the damage to your arm.”

Edun stepped forward and offered Alan her hand, which he took graciously. “A pleasure to meet you. We have heard much about you.” His eyes were kind, his grip firm. 

Edun wasn’t sure if she should address the issue of Shaun’s true parentage or not, but decided that was news best left to him to deliver. She saw Alan glance at her shortened sleeve, before returning his attention to her face.

“Why don’t we step into my office, somewhere a little more quiet and private, and discuss what we can do about that.”

She followed him out and down a hall. Alan’s office was, much like everything here, anodized aluminum and glass. He gestured for her to sit in a white chair across from him, and she did. Shaun sat beside her. 

“What we will do is first take a sample of your DNA. Nothing too invasive. A simple cheek swab will suffice. Consider it a... _ starter _ for our recipe, if you will. From there, we can use it to program the organic compounds used for the creation of our synthetics. After that, it will be a matter of surgery. You will be put under, and we will open up your closed over injury, allowing our machines to build directly onto your own bone and tissue. The result will be a seamless transition from your own flesh into synthesized flesh. You will be approximately 1.9% synth when we are done.” He smiled at his own little joke. 

She swallowed, hard. Was she crazy to accept this? She had only just arrived. She barely knew these people. Giving them a sample of her DNA...allowing them to put her  _ under _ ...that was more trust than she was sure was safe to give. On the other hand, if they had wanted her dead, they would have killed her by now. Her desire to be whole once more was outweighing her caution. This wasn’t a chance she would ever be given again. There was nothing like the Institute anywhere else, she was sure of  _ that. _

“Okay,” she agreed slowly. “But...I don’t want to be put under. Can you do local anesthesia?”

Alan raised an eyebrow, surprised. “I...suppose I could. Though it seems barbaric for you to have to watch something so gruesome.”

“I’ve seen my share of gruesome,” she answered drily. “Surface dweller, remember?”

“Of course,” Alan said smoothly. “I often forget what life is like up there. Very well. We will honor your wish for local anesthesia. Step into my lab again, and we will get that DNA sample and start the process. We should have everything we need to get started in 24 hours.”

She followed him back out, and after taking a couple cheek swabs, Alan told her they would be in touch to schedule her surgery. Shaun led her back out, and they resumed their tour of the Institute.

Advanced Systems seemed to be focused on various weaponry and applied physics. Several scientists appeared to be test-firing new weapons down a firing range. They did not notice their visitors, and Shaun did not interrupt them. He turned right, heading down some stairs and into an office. A short Asian woman was at work. Her hair was in a tight bun and she had the sort of face that said  _ I’m busy, bother someone else.  _ She greeted Shaun with a wary flick of her eyes before returning to the work on her terminal. Shaun did not seem to be bothered by the woman’s crisp attitude at all, though he greeted her.

“Madison, hello. I am giving Edun here a tour of the facility. Edun, this is Doctor Madison Li. She runs Advanced Systems.”

Madison gave Edun an analytical glance, her eyes moving from Edun to Shaun, then back to Edun. She was noting the lack of similarity in their appearances, Edun realized. Putting the pieces together. 

“I am very busy right now. What do you need?” Her voice was tight, businesslike.

Edun thought she saw Shaun’s eyes harden just a little, but he shrugged amiably. “I would like you to outfit Edun’s pip boy with a courser chip. I want her to be able to come and go as she pleases.” Edun stared at him for a moment, stunned at the gesture. She had been wrapped up in her own fears, without considering that allowing her into his organization was a huge security risk for Shaun. If he had been watching her all this time, then he knew she was friendly with the Brotherhood. Either he did not see them as a threat, or...he was confident that her presence here would put her solidly on the Institute side of the line. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing...or a very bad thing. Her new arm was starting to feel a little like a bribe being dangled before her.

Madison leveled an irritated gaze at Edun, and held out her hand. “Very well. Let me see it. It will take me about an hour to install the chip. Come back then.”

Edun brought the pip boy up to her mouth, using her teeth to unclasp it. It wasn’t an elegant solution, but she wasn’t about to ask this sharp woman to assist her. Her ears burned with humiliation as the doctor watched her with perceptive eyes. She felt a little as though she was being disarmed, but tilted her wrist and deposited the pip boy on Madison’s desk. 

“Is there more?” Madison inquired, irritation in her voice.

“We’d best leave before she throws something at us,” Shaun teased, moving to leave the department. Edun followed, not quite doubting the woman  _ would  _ throw something. There was a quiet hostility to her, and Edun wasn’t sure why. Her emotions were clouding her ability to think clearly, and she was afraid if there was something rotten afoot here, she would somehow miss it. 

They strolled past a department titled ‘Synth Retention Bureau’, but did not go in. Edun looked up at the sign as they passed, confused.

“What’s that?” She asked, turning to Shaun. 

“That is the Synth Retention Bureau. Their job is to...go out and locate synths that have wandered and bring them home.”  _ Synths that have wandered? _

“Is it not part of the tour?” 

Shaun made a dismissive motion with one hand. “Justin Ayo is...Particular about how things are run. I leave him to his work and do my best not to interfere with departmental operations.” 

“You’re the Director,” she pointed out. “Aren’t departmental operations your primary concern here?”

He sighed. “I may be the Director, but I do my best to give my people the resources and space they need to succeed. On that subject, I do have some items to attend to today. How would you like to explore the Institute? Make yourself at home, say hello to the people, get acquainted with the place? When I finish with my duties, we can meet for dinner.”

“Sure. I’d like that,” she said sincerely.

“Excellent. I will send someone for you. Until then, do make yourself comfortable. My people know to be accommodating to your needs.” He clasped her hand in his warmly, before releasing her and heading off in the direction of his office. Edun waited until his white coat had disappeared into a stairwell before turning back to look at the Synth Retention Bureau. He might not want to go in there, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to. Nosiness had always been a personal flaw of hers. 

The SRB was alive with activity. Coursers, identical in apparel to the one she had encountered, paced the department or discussed items with Institute staff. Edun weaved through the bustle of activity, eyeing her surroundings curiously. Through a window, she spied a wall of weaponry. Rifles, energy cells, grenades, Stealth devices of a design she was not familiar with, and assorted tactical gear sat on shelves. She watched a Courser enter the room, grab several items, and leave.  _ No doubt off to retrieve an errant synth...peacefully.  _ She thought about the Railroad. She would have to swing by and see them after this. The intel on this place might be invaluable to helping them rescue synths and evade Coursers. An odd feeling of betrayal bloomed in her chest at that thought. Betrayal of...Shaun?  _ Just because he is being kind to you doesn’t mean he is on the right side,  _ she reminded herself.

“Did someone open a sealed chute and allow some Wasteland trash to fall into our establishment?” A cold voice drawled from behind her. “Or are  _ you _ our fearless leader’s long lost mother?”

Edun turned, not missing the open hostility in the barely-veiled insult. Hard eyes, dull and black like a shark’s, regarded her from beneath low brows. The man was thin; gaunt cheeks and a weak chin giving him a furtive appearance.  _ Like an angry little mole rat _ , she thought. He was short, the hair atop his head long gone save for a few wisps. His thin lips, framed by the saddest excuse for a moustache she had ever seen, were curled in an unpleasant little smile. There was absolutely zero warmth to it. He eyed her like shit on the bottom of his shoe. 

“Ah,” she said, giving the man a broad grin. “You must be Justin Ayo. Shaun didn’t mention how short you were. I expected the head of the SRB would be taller. Much taller.” She gave him a long up-and-down, letting her eyes dwell on his wobbly little chin for a few extra seconds. His reaction was well-contained. She saw the corners of his mouth twitch before he caught them. His eyes were another story, flashing angrily, gleaming with fury at her before he regained full composure.

“Yes, of... _ course _ you are. Surface dwellers have a rather... _ unique _ quality about them, don’t they. What brings you to my department?” He was hurling little insults at her like barbed arrows, his eyes staring pointedly at her damaged face and arm, but she couldn’t care less. Being called ugly on the playground by someone who  _ was _ ugly had never hurt her feelings before, and it wasn’t about to now.

“Oh, I’m just doing a little exploring. Wanted to see if there was anything worthwhile in here. No dice, yet.” His eyes glittered, flinty and hateful. She was enjoying this. “So tell me, Justin, what do you do here?”

“The SRB is responsible for retrieving stolen property, as the name  _ implies _ . My Coursers are relentless hunters. They will not stop until they have acquired their targets...unless otherwise  _ meddled  _ with.” She had a feeling he was alluding to Greenetech.

“How do the synths get out? Seemed pretty damn hard to get  _ in _ .”

“I do not know, but rest assured, I am working on finding an answer to that very question.” He shifted impatiently. “I’ll be up front with you. We’re going to be keeping a very close eye on you for the near future. Despite Father’s obsession with you, I find you to be an unknown quantity. A security risk. And I take security risks very seriously. I expect full compliance from you.” 

“Many men have asked that of me,” she said with a cryptic smile. “Many have been disappointed. Stay out of my business, Justin, and I won’t fuck with yours.” 

She turned from him, then, and saw herself out. Before the door shut behind her, Justin Ayo called after her.

“You’re up to something, outsider, and I’m going to figure out  _ what _ .” 


	34. Alone in a Crowded Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally screwed up and missed posting the REAL chapter 26. Please go back and read it. It's a super important chapter. I can't believe I did that.

Edun had expected to grab some nutrient mash in the cafeteria for dinner, but in retrospect, that was silly to assume. She could not imagine the Director - Shaun - sitting amongst his people and casually eating a meal. There was an aloofness to him, whether borne of his position or from another quality she could not say. Whatever the case, it seemed to elevate and separate him from the others. While his people deeply respected him and deferred to him on all matters, respect was not the same as friendship. He was their Director. Their leader. He was alone even when in a crowded room, as such people often were. Perhaps that is why he had been so receptive to her arrival, even after she shared her story with him. She, too, was an outsider. Separate from the rest and with the same freedom such a distinction entailed.

A blank-faced Gen 2 came to retrieve her for dinner from where she strolled through BioScience, feigning interest in the plants. She was, in truth, trying to scope out an access point to Virgil’s lab. Might as well be prepared and ready to strike, should the pan get a little too hot to stay in. There was a doorway to the old Bioscience lab with a laser grid over it. She was confident that with a little tinkering she could hack through the control terminal and lower the grid. She would be faster doing it with two hands, but typing one-handed was becoming another skill in her tool belt of random abilities. Madison Li had finished installing the chip in her pip boy as well, and wordlessly latched the device back onto Edun’s wrist with little regard for her protests that she could do it herself. Edun was relieved to have it back, and with it the knowledge that she could zap right out of here if she needed to. Having an escape route from a subterranean lair was  _ always _ preferable.

A table had been set up in Shaun’s quarters, a lavish spread laid out upon it. There was fresh fruit, roasted vegetables, and cubes of something she guessed was a nutrient supplement, rich in protein and vitamins. Shaun rose to his feet as she entered the room, pulling her chair out for her in a gentlemanly fashion. She felt extremely out of place. Moreso, now, taking in Shaun’s tidy outfit once more. She hadn’t realized her visit to the Institute would require proper dinner attire. She watched as he poured a glass of wine for each of them, setting the bottle down before raising his glass to her.

“To a lifetime of questions finally being answered,” he toasted. She clinked her glass to his.

“To Nathan and Nora, wherever they are.”

“Please. Dig in. I don’t imagine you have had food of this quality in some time. All our ingredients are grown within the Institute, of course.”

“Yes. Your hydroponics setup is incredible.”

They chatted pleasantly for some time. He was intelligent and well learned. He asked many questions and listened to her answers with great interest. She told him about life before the bombs fell, and he shared more about himself and what it had been like to grow up in the Institute. He focused a lot on accomplishments. Various academics, discoveries. The admiration and recognition received for groundbreaking discoveries he’d made. He had earned his position as the Director. That much was evident. He had a thorough understanding of science and its applications, as well as the authoritative personality required to bring an organization together. His life had a hollow ring to it, she realized. It was as though he were reading off a resume to her rather than sharing defining moments or things he truly cared about. The clinical quality to his words made them stiff and unfeeling. She wondered if there was anything he was actually  _ passionate _ about. 

The wine flowed, and Shaun seemed considerably more relaxed. Wine had a way of doing such things, and Edun wasn’t immune to it herself. The wine was making her bold, and her nosiness reared its ugly head once more.

“I stopped by the SRB today,” she said casually, taking another sip from her glass. “I hope that was alright. I just wanted to meet this elusive Justin Ayo.”

“If you met Justin, then by now you know why I tried to avoid him.” Shaun’s eyes were amused. 

“I don’t know what you mean. I found him to be a lovely man.” Her poker face had never been so strained, and Shaun choked on his mouthful of wine.

“He’s been… Stirring up everyone in the Institute,” Shaun confessed. “He’s obsessed with the number of synths that have escaped somehow. He’s convinced there is someone here, on the inside, helping them. I gave him full authority to investigate, and he has not been particularly friendly about it. My people feel scrutinized, and are angry with Justin for invading their perceived privacy.”

“Explains his suspicion of me,” Edun nodded. “He seems to be convinced I’m up to something. It took me months to get here. I don’t know how he expects me to be a synth liberator, considering.”

Shaun shook his head. “Justin means well. He is correct in being concerned. The Institute cannot risk lost property being apprehended out in the Commonwealth. Especially with organizations like the Brotherhood of Steel and the Railroad operating unchecked. We have assets that are assigned up there, to be sure, but we track them. We know their every movement. When they have served their purpose, we recall them.”

Edun’s glass stilled inches from her lips, and she lowered it back to the table. “So some of the rumors  _ are  _ true. You are replacing people with synthetics?” 

  
  


He could hear the sudden edge to her voice, and leaned forward. “Everything we do is for a reason, Edun. You will see that in time. We do not simply snatch people from their beds in the dead of night for no reason. Sometimes we must take people, yes. But when we do, it is for the sake of research. The sort of research that will save lives.”

“What do you do with the people you replace?” 

“They join us here, of course. Until the research is done.” He gave her a comforting smile. “Did you think we  _ murdered _ them?”

“What is the harm of synths wanting a new life outside of this place?” She pressed. “From what I have seen, they are glorified janitors down here.”

“Edun, without the Institute to monitor their behavior, they can be extremely impressionable and dangerous. A synth left to its own devices is capable of immeasurable chaos. We created them, and so we are responsible for them. You have a dog, yes?”

“Yes,” she answered warily.

“And if your dog wanted to bite a child for petting him, would you stand by and let him? Even with all the warning signs evident?”

She didn’t like his patronizing, reasonable tone. It was a tone used on those beneath oneself. “You really don’t know Dogmeat. He only bites ghouls and mutants. But no, I would not stand by. I would never let him bite a kid. Unless the kid was crying. Then maybe.”

His eyes twinkled, and he laughed. “Then you understand. I cannot let my synths  _ bite.  _ They must be kept at the end of a leash for their own safety as well as the safety of others.”

Edun chewed on this. She was having a very difficult time imagining the synth mopping the cafeteria ‘biting’ anyone. She could see where he was going with this, and part of her wanted to understand what he meant, but...These synths weren’t dogs. They were people. They were  _ human. _ She had watched how they were made, and it would be easier to believe this rhetoric if she had not watched that new synth marvel at his own hands.

“Allow me to prove my point to you,” Shaun continued. “I know you are a woman of action rather than words. Tomorrow, after you get a good night’s sleep, I want you to accompany one of my Coursers on a mission. There is a rogue synth who needs to be returned to us. He was once a rescue of the Railroad’s, and at some point his life took a terrible turn. He is now the leader of a gang of raiders, and possibly one of the most vicious ones you will ever see. Go, help bring him back. See proof of the chaos a synth left unchecked creates. Then decide for yourself if I am right or I am wrong.”

He wanted her to drag a synth back to its prison? She weighed her options. Either she didn’t go, and the synth was returned anyway, or she  _ did _ go... and got a better idea of the bigger picture. She didn’t see the harm in stopping a raider - synth or not - from hurting people.

“Alright,” she nodded in assent. “I’ll go. Just to...observe.”

“That is all I ask of you,” Shaun looked pleased. “I want you to trust me, and showing you this...is more effective than words could ever be.”

After dinner and an entire bottle of wine, Shaun mourned being too tipsy to walk her to her quarters. She knew he wasn’t  _ that  _ tipsy. She knew his real reasoning was that he didn’t want his people to see him this way. What way was that? Almost...happy? His eyes were bright and his face was a little pink as he bid her goodnight from his doorway, turning to leave her to her Gen 2 escort. The synth led her to her own quarters, leaving her at the door with a polite  _ ma’am.  _ Edun stepped inside and looked around. The accommodations were modest, but comfortable. A sleek, modern bed with clean, soft looking bedding. A white dresser. And around the wall...a shower. A wonderful, clean, functioning shower. Edun was exhausted and half drunk, but she nonetheless shimmied out of her flight suit and stepped into the shower for a late night cleansing.

Showering with one hand was always interesting. Rather than doling out the perfect amount of shampoo into one hand, she had to tilt the bottle and squeeze out her best guess at the right amount. It usually meant rather excessive lathering, but she figured as she worked her right hand over her scalp that the Institute could afford it. They had everything here. They were self-sustaining, and as close to a completely civilized society as anything had been since the war. Once she was squeaky clean, she rummaged through the dresser drawers. They were fully stocked. Plain white undergarments, blue and white Institute jumpsuits, socks. She was going to pass on wearing one of those absurd and ugly jumpsuits, but a white undershirt and briefs would do for sleepwear. She slipped into them and then sat on the edge of the bed, yawning. Then froze. Preston would be worried sick about her. By now, he probably thought she was  _ dead.  _ Mortification sludged its way through her drunken brain, and she hauled herself up from the bed. Her pip boy sat atop the dresser where she had left it. She would just...pop out of here real quick, radio Preston and update him, and then pop back into her room for some sleep. Perfect.

She flipped through the menu with her right hand, selected the teleport option, and gripping her pip boy firmly, activated the new function with her thumb. White-blue light enveloped her, and the room around her disappeared.

In retrospect, she probably could have put her flight suit back on. Or grabbed a gun. She found herself standing on the roof of the CIT ruins in her underpants, rain pouring down from the heavens with an effort that could only be deemed deliberate and malicious. She rushed to an overhang for cover, cursing herself for being so stupid. Drunk Edun was stupid Edun. Huddled against the wall, she locked on to the frequency she and Preston always used.

“Preston? Are you there?” 

_ “Edun!?” _ his voice crackled to life, difficult to hear over the storm, but it was there.  _ “Are you alright? Are you safe?”  _

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine. The Institute is...not what I expected. So far, they’ve been friendly with me. I’ve got some things to take care of tomorrow. Then I’ll be back in Sanctuary.”

_ “This is really Edun, right? This isn’t some trick? You’re still...you?” _ His voice was wary, suspicious.

“Preston,” Edun said, “You have a spot behind your left ear that’s sensitive, and when I kiss it just right, you squirm and giggle like a little girl.”

_ “Oooookay, okay, point taken.” _ His laughter rang out from the little speaker, tinny but relieved.  _ “Only you would barge into a place like the Institute and somehow make friends. Just...be careful. I miss you.” _

“I miss you, too. Place a big, wet kiss on Dogmeat for me.”

_ “You know I’m not going to do that. I’ll save it for when you get home.” _

“It was worth a shot. Goodnight, honey.”

_ “Goodnight, beautiful.”  _

It was doomed to be a night of poor decisions, for after switching off the radio, she could not figure out how to fine-tune the teleporter for precise locations. How did Coursers do it? Was there Courser School? To her horror, it did zap her back into the Institute...Right to the dead center of the atrium. There were gasps as a handful of people and synths still awake were assaulted by the sight of a drenched woman in her underwear, trailing water behind her with each footstep. Edun was no stranger to partial nudity among crowds. You didn’t become the master of barracks strip poker without taking a few hits yourself. She ignored the stares, shook a droplet of water off her nose, and strode past the incredulous gawkers with complete and utter confidence. It wasn’t until later, when she closed her door behind her and burst out laughing, that she realized she had completely forgotten about her missing arm. It had only been for a handful of minutes, the walk to her room, but it was the first time the flaw had not been at the forefront of her thoughts since the incident. She remembered a phrase someone had once used to describe her.

_ Jesus, Edun. You really put the ‘ass’ in ‘class.’  _

-

Edun slept like the dead, until somewhere around 8AM a knock on the door awoke her. Grumbling, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she staggered to her door and opened it. Her eyes slowly focused on the black leather, then rose higher. She knew the face before her. It hadn’t changed a bit since she saw him in Kellogg’s memories. She took an unwitting step back, reacting to the Courser.

“Greetings, ma’am,” X6-88 said. “I am designation X6-88. Father has sent me to collect you for our mission. Though I see I am...early,” she couldn’t see his eyes, but his head tilted fractionally as he took in her rumpled bedhead and underclothes.

“Hi,” she said carefully, sizing him up. “I didn’t know we were on a schedule. Give me a moment, and I’ll get sorted.”

“Of course, ma’am,” X6-88 said politely, and waited in the doorway. Edun raised an eyebrow at him, but decided she was being rushed and it was entirely her fault. She snatched her flight suit from its place atop the dresser and wiggled awkwardly into it, zipping up. She snatched some socks from a drawer, donned them, and pulled on her boots. She raked her hand through her hair, willing it to lie in a reasonable shape, but she had gone to bed with it wet and there was no hope for it. She cursed her stupid hand for not having useful attachments, like her Swiss knife did. 

“Would you like my assistance with that?” The Courser asked mildly from his position in her doorway.

“Assistance with  _ my hair _ ?” Edun asked somewhat incredulously. Had a Course just offered to braid her hair? The thought was so absurd she almost laughed out loud.

“Father has instructed me to help you with anything you need,” the Courser answered somberly. She stared at him for a long moment, then stuck her hand in her pocket and produced a tie.

“Just...put it up in a ponytail, I don’t care. Somewhere it can’t attack me anymore.” 

The synth stepped into her room and walked over to her. She sat on the edge of the bed, and he carefully gathered up her hair and secured it in a somewhat lopsided but otherwise functional ponytail.

“Will that do?” He asked.

She patted at it with her hand. “Yep. That’s perfect. Who knew Coursers were so multi-talented.”

“I would not tell Ayo about this,” the Courser said seriously. “I do not think he likes you very much.”

“I’m guessing you don’t like him either, if you’re telling me this,” Edun snorted.

“I neither like nor dislike any member of the Institute. My loyalties merely lie with Father, and he alone. He is a great man. None of us would exist if not for his vision and genius.”

“Nobody likes Ayo. I’m pretty sure you’re no exception.” She grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulder again, then picked up her shotgun and her pip boy. He watched patiently as she used her chin to snap the latch on it into place over her wrist.

“I have never seen a human missing an arm,” X6-88 observed. “It is fascinating how well you adapt to its loss.”

“Thanks. I work out.” Edun said sarcastically, feeling somewhat self conscious.

“I see. So strenuous physical activity has assisted you in your recovery? How interesting.” 

“They skipped the humor program on you, didn’t they.”

He tilted his head at her. “Humor is hardly a necessary skill for a Courser. Our job is to--”

“I know, I know. Retrieve stray synths. Don’t worry about it.”

She was finally reasonably organized, and stepped out of her room. The synth followed her out, close on her heels. In the hall, Edun passed one of the gawkers from last night’s atrium episode. The man turned crimson and averted his eyes, his face a mask of disgust.

“Hey, X6-88,” she said loudly. “You said Father told you to do anything I needed?”

“That is correct, ma’am,” he replied.

“I need you to punch that jackass in the face.” She jerked a thumb in the man’s direction. In her peripheral, she saw him physically start, eyes jerking up in horror to look at the looming X6-88. The Courser began to move towards the man, and Edun burst into laughter, holding up a hand to halt him.

“I’m kidding, holy shit, don’t really do it!” The Courser immediately backed down, looking confused. He clearly did not understand the joke, and Edun was disinclined to explain. She flashed the horrified man a parting grin and continued on. The discomfort of assholes was all the coffee she needed. They made their way down to the atrium floor, and Edun stopped by the cafeteria to grab a bite to go. She wondered if she could eat while teleporting, or if the food would get disappeared in the transition. She was about to find out with this Institute nutrition packet.

She looked up towards Shaun’s quarters, and was surprised to see him standing on his balcony, watching them. He smiled down at her and held up his hand, giving her a friendly wave. She returned the smile and waved back. 

“Are you ready, ma’am?” X6-88 asked from somewhere near her shoulder. She turned back to him and nodded. 

“Let’s go.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, and blue light flashed around them. The Institute and Shaun’s intense gaze melted away.

The teleporter left them on the docks south of Nahant. Ahead of them was a flotilla of assorted fishing and leisure boats, joined by rope and wire and boards. Raiders were patrolling the makeshift walkways. The string of boats circled around to an enormous ocean freighter that was run aground. The freighter tilted to one side, and an intricate structure of scaffolding and balconies was built up along the higher side.

“We believe designation B5-92 and his closest members are at the top, there,” X6-88 explained, pointing to the top of the freighter. “There are many raiders patrolling the flotilla. Please allow me to clear them. Father was most anxious you would be damaged.”

“For a man who watched my progress on the surface, he sure underestimates my fighting abilities,” Edun commented.

“As you no doubt learned from your time on the surface, the winds can change at any moment,” X6-88 answered gravely. “I will go first. If you wish to fight, please exercise extreme caution. Father would not be pleased with me if harm befell you.”

He said nothing further, instead activating a stealth field and shimmering out of view. Edun tried to track his progress, but he was  _ fast.  _ Angry yells rose from the closest ships, and Edun felt as though she was watching an invisible tornado fly through the fleet. Raiders fell dead where they stood or went careening into the water, the murky marina turning red where they fell. Edun focused on the raiders he hadn’t killed yet, firing her drum-fed shotgun. She was running across one of the walkways when she heard the boom of a rocket launcher go off. There was little time to react, but before she could throw herself in  _ any  _ direction, powerful arms were lifting her and pivoting. She was tossed a good fifteen feet, landing heavily against the cabin of a tugboat. When the missile hit, she realized she was just barely clear of the blast zone. A shimmer in the air raced past her. Seeing a Courser in battle both impressed her and made her blood run cold. The Institute definitely didn’t fuck around with security. X6-88 was a one man army. Her presence here was about as useful as one of those gross sprigs of garnish on the side of a nice steak dinner.

The rest of the way up to the freighter was much the same. Edun stopped even trying to help. At this point she wasn’t sure what exactly Shaun wanted her to see, because so far all she had seen was one Courser kicking the shit out of a bunch of poorly organized raiders. He stopped her at the hatch leading to the top of the freighter.

“When we get up there, do not shoot the subject. At the first sign of aggression, I will issue B5-92’s recall code. I will make sure you are not harmed. You must trust me. Father wants you to see as much of the situation as you can before I deactivate him.”

“Deactivate him? So this code of yours will...kill him?” 

“Not at all,” X6-88 shook his head. “It will merely wipe his mind and render him inert. He will be returned to the Institute and restored to his former functions.”

“That somehow sounds worse, but...I get it, I guess. Let’s go.”

X6-88 pushed the hatch open and climbed up first, holding it open for Edun to clamber her way through. The sight at the top was breathtaking. In a very literal sense. The stink of the corpses littering the surrounding area in grisly decor was overpowering. The railing running the length of the platform up here was topped with barbed wire, and the bodies of settlers hung over it like festering sacks of meat. More hung from overhead beams, great hooks impaling them. The bodies swung in the gentle breeze, chains clinking. Edun had seen super mutants treat humans more kindly. Gabriel, as he called himself, otherwise known as B5-92, was languishing in a chair and resting his feet on the back of a whimpering and bound man wearing the clothes of a trader. He rose abruptly when he saw X6-88 and Edun approaching, stepping on his prisoner and ignoring the yelp from the man as he was crushed.

“Well, what have we here?” Gabriel sneered, looking them over. “Looks like you made it to the top. Just like me!” He laughed raucously at that, and the three goons surrounding him laughed in a perfect parroting. “Judging from your tall friend’s gear, I'd guess you two are from the Institute. Don’t tell me the Institute is so desperate for resources they’ve turned to robbing the innocent, hard-working gangs of the Commonwealth.”

Edun focused on the sobbing trader lying on the wooden slats at Gabriel’s feet, and rage boiled in her. “Let that man go and maybe we won’t shoot off _ both _ of your legs.”

Gabriel acted surprised, as though he’d completely forgotten the trussed up man. He turned and looked down at his prisoner. “Oh, this man? You want me to let him go?”

“I don’t think I stuttered,” Edun growled.

“What are you going to do, little birdie?” Gabriel all but giggled. “Catch me with a left hook?”

“Edun,” X6-88 said warningly, seeing her shoulders tighten and her fist curl.

_ “I know,”  _ she hissed.

Gabriel took their moment of distraction to draw his pistol, and without further discussion, he fired a round into the side of the trader’s head. The man jerked a few times, then went still. 

“Do it or I’m shooting him,” Edun roared.

“You  _ said  _ to free him,” Gabriel began.

“B5-92, initialize factory reset,” X6-88 boomed in a deep and commanding voice. “Authorization gamma-7-epsilon.” 

Without any hesitation, Gabriel went immediately limp though remained standing. His men shouted in confusion, and X6-88 took their hesitation to his advantage, killing the rest of Gabriel’s crew while Edun stared at the dead trader. Her bravado had gotten the man killed. Now he was no better off than the rest of Gabriel’s victims, scattered about in an immortalized horror that reminded her of the way Pickman’s gallery had looked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in my top 5 favorite chapters, personally.


	35. Not Replaced, Only Returned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: I totally screwed up and missed posting the REAL chapter 26. Please go back and read it, if you haven't. It's a super important chapter. I can't believe I did that.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------

Edun felt shaky as she watched Alan Binet prep her stump with the dark orange iodine. Up until this moment, she hadn’t thought it would really happen. She had been terrified the Institute would be some awful den of evil, and she would be forced to turn down Shaun’s offer in the face of morality. A small voice inside her still squeaked its protest, concerned there was something she was missing and that this was wrong, all wrong, she was accepting something she had no right to. She squashed it down almost angrily. She had looked Shaun in the eyes, and saw a man who was flawed but not necessarily evil. He had beliefs that she did not  _ agree  _ with, but the same could be said for Danse or Elder Maxson. Coming here had left her resolutions in a tangle. She didn’t know  _ what  _ she would say when it was time to debrief the Brotherhood. They would probably shoot her, honestly, deciding she was a turncoat or an agent of the Institute.

The door to surgery opened and closed, and she saw Shaun approaching. He wore a similar surgical outfit to Alan, his salt and peppered hair tucked under a little white cap. He walked to her side and smiled down at her.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Are you sure about this?” Edun asked nervously. “It’s not too late to take backsies.”

“Why would I do such a thing? This does not require any resources we are not well-able to spare. You are not inconveniencing us at all.” 

“I guess I don’t understand why you think I’m worthy of a gift like this,” she answered lamely.

“Edun,” he said almost tenderly, “You helped to close a long-open and painful wound in my heart. You made me whole again. The least I can do is make you whole again. Now, relax. When you are ready, we will begin.”

A tear escaped from the corner of her right eye and slipped down into the hair at her temple. Alan pinched at the end of her stump. They had it propped up on a small platform to the side of her. Overhead, a smaller version of one of the machines she had seen in Robotics hovered, waiting.

“Do you feel this?” He asked, watching her for a reaction. She shook her head.

“Nothing at all. I feel pressure. That’s it.”

“If this becomes too much, you can look away. We won’t be offended.” Alan gave her a reassuring pat, and his assistant rolled over a tray of surgical implements. Edun watched at first, somewhat fascinated as they cut away the doughy flesh at the end of her stump in a neat little circle. She had to stop when they cut it back farther, allowing the end of her bone protrude past the muscle tissues. She turned her head away, then, memories of the way Church had looked near the end in her mind’s eye. Shaun saw her distress and covered her good hand with one of his gloved ones.

“Tell me about pizza again. It sounded so wonderful when you described it last night.” He was helping her focus on something else, and she squeezed his hand in gratitude.

“Well, let’s see, you’ve got a few options. There’s New York style, that’s my personal favorite. Then there’s Chicago deep dish, which is honestly more a meat pie than anything…” She launched into a lengthy explanation on the finer points of what made a proper pizza pie. It was a speech that deserved its own symposium. Shaun kept his eyes on hers, listening intently to her dissertation on whole-fat mozzarella, until Alan straightened from his work.

“Take a look, Edun,” he said gently. She turned to look at Alan first, afraid of what she would see in his face, and then down at her stump. It was... no longer a stump. There was a fine pink line where her original arm stopped and the new one began, but otherwise it was shockingly seamless. Slowly, deliberately, she willed the fingers to move. They responded to her wish as though they had always been a part of her. She gasped, only then realizing she’d been holding her breath. She curled her hand into a fist, then flattened it out. She bent her wrist, turned it side to side, tears filling her eyes as she saw how responsive her new limb was.

“It  _ is  _ a part of your body,” Alan told her, as though reading her mind. “As much as any other part of you. It is your own DNA, formed after  _ your _ personal blueprint. Do not think of it as a replacement arm. It is merely  _ your  _ arm, and you just got it back.”

Edun’s chin trembled, and Alan told her he would be back to run some tests in a few minutes before bowing out gracefully. Edun sat up in the bed, using  _ both  _ arms to push herself up. Shaun was watching her, his eyes alight with the sort of look parents get when their children open carefully selected presents on Christmas. She met his eyes, her chin wobbled some more, and she crumbled the rest of the way. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she held her new arm to herself as though she would never let it go. She had finally gotten to a place where she had accepted the loss; struggled through the pain of healing and worked to adapt to life without it, and now it was back. Perfect, down to the neat fingernails at the end of each digit. She didn’t know if she was crying from joy or sorrow, at this point. Perhaps both. She was surprised when Shaun wrapped his arms around her, but after a moment she leaned into him and welcomed it. It was good to have a friend right now. 

-

Edun returned to Sanctuary four days after departing for the Institute. X6-88 had shown her how to finesse the relay controls, and  _ this  _ time she ended up in the middle of Mama Murphy’s beloved corn patch. The plants were now chest high on Edun; not high enough to hide her. She gave Mama a terrible fright, and the older woman fell over backwards in her chair with a startled yell when Edun materialized mere feet in front of her. The commotion drew Marcy out of the house, drying her hands on a dish towel. She took one look at Edun and sounded the alert.

“She’s back!” Marcy called, turning and running down the street. Edun was trying not to laugh, but she couldn’t completely stifle it as she helped Mama back up.

“Kid, I am too old to handle scares like that,” Mama began to lecture, then stopped. She looked down where her hands were held in both of Edun’s, and visibly recoiled. She pulled her hands out of Edun’s grip and drew them up to her chest, her eyes angry and confused. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re not my girl,” she said. Her mouth was drawing down into a scowl, and Edun was suddenly worried about the pipe pistol on the chair beside Mama. The tension was interrupted by a ball of fur hurtling into Edun, who went careening back into the corn. Stalks snapped and bent beneath the weight of her body as Dogmeat drove her to the ground, barking and howling hysterically around enthusiastic licks.  _ Oh, how good it felt to hug her dog with both arms again. _ She wrapped him up in a tight bear hug and rolled around in the corn with him, destroying more of the plants as she playfully buried her face in his neck and made terrible snarling noises.

“Edun?” She heard Preston’s voice cry, and then Mama’s, lower and more urgent as she said something to him. Edun sobered up, lifting her face from Dogmeat’s fur. The canine wiggled and twisted, trying to get a better angle to lick her ear. Edun saw Preston staring at her, brows drawn together tightly and his hands gripping his laser rifle as Mama gestured towards her. She released the dog, climbing quickly to her feet before he could completely saturate her face with slobber, and dusted herself off. Preston’s eyes followed the motion, his face frozen in horror as he took in her repaired arm.

“Will everyone  _ please  _ stop looking at me like I’m a super mutant,” Edun demanded, putting her hands on her hips. “It’s  _ me.  _ Preston, remember, tickle spot behind your ear? You giggle like a little girl? Mama, you hide a jug of moonshine under your bunk and when you and Marcy think you’re alone, you get shit faced and talk about how sexy the Silver Shroud is.” 

Mama’s mouth dropped open, and Preston dropped his rifle. He strode to where Edun stood, crushing a few more stalks of corn beneath his boots.  _ The poor plants really didn’t have a chance today. _ He swept Edun up in a tight embrace, lifting her until her feet dangled off the ground, and kissed her with enough passion even Dogmeat blushed.

“I have so much to tell you,” Edun gasped when he let her up for air.

“Tell me later,” Preston growled, kissing her again.  _ Oh.  _ Someone had... _ really  _ missed her. He wouldn’t even let her  _ walk _ to his house. He threw her over his shoulder and carried her the entire way, one powerful arm wrapped around her thighs. Edun cackled the entire ride through Sanctuary, swinging back and forth with his long strides, until he barged into his house and deposited her on the bed. She had never seen him so unrestrained. He had always been a calm and patient man, both outside of the bedroom and in. Today was different. He fell on her like a starving man, peeling her flight suit from her with practiced ease before seeking her mouth again, the flurry of kisses leaving her lips swollen and bruised. His fervor made her giddy, and she encouraged him with little noises and squeezes. Ferocious Preston was... _ hot.  _ Very hot. Things got heated, and their dance became almost a battle. When she got too loud, he pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. She responded by clamping down around him so tightly he nearly lost control. 

When it was done, he collapsed on top of her. She loved the feeling of his sweaty skin against hers, and dragged her nails gently up and down his broad back. He shivered at the contact, but allowed it. He nuzzled her cheek, pressing kisses along her jawline, and she grinned.

“So let me get this straight,” she asked in a mock-serious tone, “If I were a synth, you’d have just cheated on me with little to no hesitation.”

“Is it cheating if it’s an exact copy of you?” He asked innocently.

“Hmm. Gray area. I’ll allow it, but only because I  _ still _ can’t feel my toes. Poor Mama Murphy.”

He chuckled, a deep and throaty rumble. The vibration of it against her was pleasant. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at her.

“Okay.  _ Now _ you can tell me everything.” 

And so she did, starting from the beginning. She told him about meeting Shaun and telling him the truth about who she was. How the Institute was not quite what she had heard or expected, and it had surprised her. She told him about the different departments, and how the technology used to create synths had been used to rebuild her arm. He stopped her at that part of the story, taking her left hand in his and turning it this way and that, inspecting it. He ran a thumb along the pink dividing line between her flesh and the synthetic organic tissue, clearly feeling as awed as she had been.

“Does it feel...the same? Normal?” He asked.

“It feels just like a part of me,” she answered, then flexed the fingers into claws. “But...Oh no...I think it has a taste for...the blood of handsome Minutemen. Run! Oh god!” She made dramatic flailing motions with it, and he rolled his eyes at her. 

She continued her story, telling him about the distasteful little worm Justin Ayo, and about the mission Shaun sent her on to Libertalia. She told him about Gabriel, and the way X6-88 had shut him down as easily as flicking a light switch. Preston’s face darkened at this part of the story. 

“So one synth goes bad, and that’s Shaun’s justification for forcing them all into a life of servitude? You can’t agree with that, Edun.”

“I’m not saying I agree,” she replied calmly. “This was a research trip, remember? I’m feeling things out. I don’t really know what to think of them yet.”

Preston looked pointedly at her arm. “I hope their generosity hasn’t blinded you to the truth. It sounds like they are buttering you up for something. I don’t like it.”

Edun sighed. “The way I see it, I feel things out and in the meantime I get my arm back. What did you want me to do? Turn up my nose at the gift because they  _ might  _ be the bad guys? This is a complex situation. It demands more attention.”

He was not happy with that. He rolled over and got to his feel, searching for his pants in the pile of clothes scattered around the floor. Edun watched him, feeling like a child who had just been chastised for doing something wrong. He couldn’t understand. He hadn’t lost a part of himself like she had. He hadn’t spent weeks staring at an ugly, fleshy stump and wondering if it would be the thing that finally got him killed. She needed to be her best for the Minutemen. For the Brotherhood. For the Commonwealth. How was she supposed to accomplish a damn thing with one arm? The gift and offered kindness had not altered her perception of the Institute. Had it? Was she really thinking clearly? Damn him for making her doubt it.

“I’m just afraid for you,” he said at last, buttoning his shirt. “The stories and rumors about the Institute exist for a reason. All folklore, all legends, and all rumors have one thing in common. They all started from something that was true. If you go back there, look  _ harder _ at the things between the lines they feed you. That is all I ask.”

She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, nodding. He was right. She was taking far too much of it at face value, and she would be lying to herself if she said Shaun’s kindness to her had not added a rosy hue to her glasses. She felt like a fool, though she did not have any reason to. Not yet. When she left the Institute, Shaun had bid her goodbye and took both of her hands in his.

_“I hope you will reflect on everything you have seen and learned here, and realize we are not the boogeyman the Commonwealth has made us out to be. Safe travels, Edun. I look forward to seeing you again.”_

It was not his words that stood out in her memory so much as the way he had looked at her then. There was a yearning there she was not sure how to place. He had expected a relationship with his mother, and instead had gotten something entirely different. Despite their lack of relation, did he somehow still see her as a...mother figure? Was that what it was? A projection of a lifetime of longing for a matriarchal figure? Was he reaching out to her as an orphan might to any woman in his life who had the promise of replacing what was missing? The thought was...somehow far more unsettling than any of the other possibilities. Infatuation or desire were baser, easier to understand. Those were things she was well familiar with. As far as she could tell, Shaun had never been in any sort of relationship. Perhaps he had been, before assuming his role, but she had sensed a terrible, aching loneliness in him during their interactions. 

The tiny voice in her was piping up again.  _ Something is wrong. Something isn’t right. You know damn well there’s more to all of this, Edun.  _

“Did I miss anything exciting while I was away?” She asked, changing the subject.

“Actually, your Brotherhood friends will  _ not  _ stop calling us demanding an update. They’re driving everyone nuts. If you’d like to pacify them, that would be lovely. Before vertibirds start landing and finish off Mama’s corn plans.”

She cringed inwardly. The people she  _ least _ wanted to talk to right now. Well, she’d silver-tongued her way out of the Gunner situation. She could silver-tongue her way out of being skewered by Elder Maxson’s letter opener. She got dressed, opting for jeans and a tee shirt. She relished every easy movement. She could buckle her holster without it being a struggle. She could snap on her pip boy without using her chin. She could lace her boots tight, rather than leaving them loose for ease of wiggling her feet into them. There were a thousand little things made so much easier again. She brushed her cheek with the fingertips of her left hand, feeling the imperfect flesh there. She had decided to keep her scars in the end. They were part of the things that defined her now, and removing them felt like a betrayal of who she was. They might be ugly, but they were _hers._

Arms encircled her from behind, and Preston’s cheek rested against her temple as they swayed back and forth together.

“I didn’t mean to dampen the joy of your return,” he whispered. “I missed you terribly.”

“I know,” she whispered back, squeezing his arms affectionately. She would make her rounds and say hello to everyone, give Dogmeat all the cuddles and snack cakes he could handle, then call a vertibird to take her to the Prydwen.  _ Always out of the pan and into the fire with you, isn’t it, Edun? _

“Will you come with me?” She asked. “I’m not entirely sure I’m safe among the Brotherhood. They’re going to see this arm and lose their shit.”

“Absolutely,” he said firmly, squeezing her harder.


	36. Only 1.9%

Edun’s apprehension only grew as the vertibird locked into place and she climbed down onto the flight deck. So far nobody had commented on her arm, but she didn’t recognize the people on shift, so that didn’t mean much. Preston and Dogmeat were with her, guarding her back as she strode to the steel door. In her mind, she mapped out a dozen escape plans. If they started shooting, she was comfortable with flying a vertibird. They just had to make it out here, not get shot, steal a bird, not get shot, and make their escape without getting shot. She had dressed for the occasion, opting for the same outfit she had worn to Med-Tek. The steel plating was heavy, but it would get her out of her alive if need be. Assuming there were no head shots. Or flamers.

Maxson was pacing back and forth in his observation room. Danse and Kells stood to the side, waiting for Edun’s debriefing. As Edun strode into the room, Dogmeat so close her fingers brushed the top of his head, Danse noticed the change in her first. He stiffened visibly. Maxson had not seen her in person since the incident, and his lessened familiarity meant it took him much longer to notice. He began speaking, and then the words died on his lips as he examined her, his face going from quizzical to enraged. He drew a laser pistol from somewhere beneath his leather coat with a speed that stunned Edun, and Danse and Kells followed the action automatically. Edun realized her own hand had leveled the .44 Magnum at the Elder in response, and behind her she knew Preston had drawn his rifle as well. Dogmeat’s hackles were up, and a low growl emitted from the dog.

_ “Abomination,” _ Maxson snarled, his aim unwavering as his eyes met hers with a cold fury that made her gut twist.

“Only 1.9% abomination,” she said easily. “The rest of me is all-organic non-GMO red-blooded American.”

The expression on Danse’s face pained her. He looked absolutely broken-hearted, and as she eyed the barrel of his rifle pointed directly at her, she realized she knew the answer to the question Cait had asked him all that time ago.  _ So if your Elder Maxi-Pad decided she was a threat and ordered you to shoot Edun right between the eyes, you wouldn’t do it?  _ He would. She was sure of that now. But the situation was more complex. He, like Maxson, thought she was a synth. They had no awareness of the things the Institute was capable of. He thought he had lost another friend. That, like Cutler, the person he loved was gone. Replaced by something inhuman. Something  _ wrong.  _ Guilt at making him feel this way washed over her. She regretted not radioing him ahead, but...this wasn’t something she wanted to explain over a military channel. She owed him a face to face.

“Where is General Edun?” Maxson demanded. “I won’t ask you again,  _ synth _ .” She saw his finger tighten around the trigger.

“Actually, Preston is the General now,” Edun corrected him. “I stepped down from that role. We both know he’s the brains of the operation. I’m just some asshole who crawled out of a vault and stole his glory. Now, if you would  _ kindly  _ lower your weapons, I would be happy to explain everything. It’s hard to remember details when I’m looking down three barrels at once. Not to mention it’s making me a little cross-eyed.”

She saw a flicker of doubt cross Danse’s face, and his grip relaxed slightly on the laser rifle. Maxson did not shoot her, but he did not budge, either.

“We are not lowering our weapons. You have five minutes to explain, and then we start shooting.”

Edun sighed and slowly lowered her revolver, returning the gun to the holster at her hip. Maxson tracked her movements, coiled and ready to strike at the first sign of deception. Preston kept his rifle up, and Edun did not ask him to lower it. Better to have him ready in case someone got itchy. She removed her pip boy, setting it at her feet. That done, she began to undo the clasps of her left arm guards, letting each piece clatter to the floor as she removed it. Then she rolled up her sleeve until the pink line encircling her upper arm was visible. She extended her arm, pointing to the mark.

“This is where I end and the synth begins. My mind is still my own.”

“Danse,” Maxson barked, “Take a closer look.” Danse set his rifle down warily and walked across the tense room to Edun. He would not meet her eyes, but took her arm in his big hands gently. He carefully examined the scar, squeezing and pressing her new arm. He worked his thumbs down the pathway of veins from the crook of her elbow to the start of her palm, and she knew from the pressure in his touch that he was looking for any kind of foreign device. A chip, or wires, or an implant. Anything suspicious. He found only pliant human flesh, and after turning her hand over to examine the peach fuzz of her forearm and the fingernails with little white crescent moons, he lowered her arm. Finally, he dared to meet her eyes. She saw hope there, now, mingled with confusion and fear. She offered him a smile. The same lopsided sort of smile she reserved just for him, in moments when he was being an awkward oaf. He wanted to believe she was herself. She could see how badly he did.

“That’s enough,” Maxson ordered. “Back away from her, Paladin.”

Almost reluctantly, Danse allowed Edun’s arm to fall and returned to his Elder’s side. Maxson listened intently as Danse whispered something into his ear, his sharp eyes never leaving Edun and his gun pointed at her. Danse finished his report and returned to his position beside Kells, though Edun noted he did not pick up his rifle again. Maxson scrutinized her for several long minutes, during which Edun did her best to look a mix of relaxed and bored. Finally, the Elder slowly lowered his gun.

“You have some explaining to do,” he snarled, “Starting with why the  _ hell  _ you have allowed yourself to be defiled in such a way.”

“The Brotherhood seeks out and claims dangerous technology for themselves; utilizing it to its own ends. You do it in the name of the common good, claiming  _ everything _ you do is to protect the people. I lost my arm while working to protect the people of the Commonwealth. The Institute had the resources needed to replace it. Is this not exactly what the Brotherhood does? I commandeered technology to strengthen myself for the greater good.” A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, but she kept it at bay. It was immensely satisfying to throw their own mantra in their faces, though.

“There is a significant difference between commandeering a weapon and allowing the most  _ heinous thing _ mankind has ever engineered to be grafted to your body,” Maxson snapped. “What you have done is an offense to those who have died in the name of science. You are no better than those who engineered the atom bomb.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Edun couldn’t help herself. Anger flowed into her words. “You are equivocating my  _ arm _ to the slaughter of millions and the end of civilization.” 

“If mankind does not unite in abstaining from the evils that doomed us, then the evil will forever continue,” Maxson said softly. “How can you not understand that? While the ability to replace a limb in itself is a miracle, that same technology has brought us the synth. A walking, talking abomination. The embodiment of man’s absolute inability to refrain from playing God. From toying with powers they cannot begin to understand the ramifications of.”

“You are wrong about synths. They are  _ not _ machines. I watched with my own eyes as one was created, using the same technology my arm was formed with. They might not come from a human mother, but I _saw_ the moment self awareness sparked in his eyes. I watched him recognize he was  _ alive. _ There is so much more to them - and to the Institute - than I can even begin to explain.”

“They have gotten their claws into you,” Maxson sighed. He sounded almost... _sad_. “You have allowed yourself to be swayed from the path of righteousness. They have twisted you to their ends, purchased your loyalty with silken words and the gift of an arm.”

“Nobody has purchased a goddamn thing,” Edun’s voice was hard. “I am still piecing together what I can about them. There is no point in making an enemy of the Institute if I can get what I need peacefully.”

“I wish I could believe you, but how can I trust you now? You stand before me on the deck of my ship with a piece of Institute technology bonded to yourself. For all I know, you are in league with them now, and everything you say and do is subterfuge meant to throw us off our trajectory. We  _ will _ take down the Institute, Edun. With or without you.”

“Good thing I brought a peace offering,” Edun said, reaching into her pocket. She produced a holotape. It was a copy of the one Sturges had given her. “On this holotape is everything from the Institute’s network. Decades upon decades of their darkest secrets for your perusal.” That was the magic needed. Something like greed entered the Elder’s eyes, and he closed the distance between them, snatching the holotape from Edun’s hand. He turned it over in his palm wonderingly.

“If this is what you claim it is, then it will give us an incredible advantage in the war ahead,” he breathed. “I will get Quinlan to work on this immediately.” He turned as though to leave, then caught himself in his distraction. “If you truly are on our side, then there is one more thing I need of you.”

“I’m all ears,” Edun answered mildly. Meanwhile, she was freaking out in her head.  _ Holy shit, he’s not going to shoot me. Holy shit, they’re not throwing me over the side of the Prydwen. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. _

“There is a scientist within the Institute. Madison Li. She did some work for us back in the Capital Waste, before parting with the Brotherhood. I need her back on my team. Speak with her, and convince her to return to us. Her input will be vital for our future efforts.”

“Yes. I met her. She’s a prickly sort, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Paladin Danse,” Maxson said, turning towards his soldier. “Keep an eye on our friend here. See that she does not again lose sight of what is important.”

He left the deck without another word, Kells following behind him with a disapproving glance in Edun’s direction. She looked towards Danse, who was standing in his corner uncertainly, as though still afraid she might shapeshift into a giant bat.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Preston said gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before stepping outside. Dogmeat stayed, and Edun scratched behind his ears briefly, smiling as the dog leaned into her. The distance between herself and Danse felt like a football field. He stared at her, his face tight, and Edun sighed and crossed the room to him. He did not flinch from her proximity, but his shoulders remained squared as though waiting for her to make a move.

“Will you fucking relax, Danse? You’re stressing out Dogmeat. Isn’t he, babysweets?” Dogmeat whined as though in agreement, and she saw some of the tension leave Danse.

“I see you’re still having conversations with an animal. Hardly behavior befitting a synth,” he admonished her.

“Look at me,” she prompted gently, and he at last met her eyes. “I am no synth. Does this look like anything but a face a dog would love?”

He surprised her by extending his hand and taking her by the chin, turning her face side to side. She let him, watching his expression as he looked her over.

“The scars are right,” he mused. “Down to the half eyebrow. The nose looks a little beaky, though. I think they added too much to the end. And the eyes...they’re a little crossed. I think they put one in crooked.”

It was the last line that did it. She saw through his poker face, and realized he was teasing her. She smacked his hand away with a laugh, and then let out an  _ oof _ as the big man nearly crushed her in a ferocious hug. It wouldn’t be a Deathclaw out in the wasteland that killed her. It would be one of his awful hugs.

“Danse,” she wheezed, “I can’t breathe.”

“I thought I’d  _ lost _ you. When I saw that arm of yours, I…” He trailed off.

“I know. You thought it was Cutler all over again. I’m  _ so _ sorry. There was no way to break it to you beforehand that you would believe at first.”

“I could have...I  _ would _ have...shot you,” he said hoarsely.

“But you didn’t. And I’m here, and I’m fine.”

He held her at arm’s length and gave her a little shake. “Do not put me through something like that  _ ever _ again. Maxson is a fair man and an excellent tactician, but he is also an immovable man. He will not continue to tolerate such things. Your actions are placing me in the middle of two impossible choices.”

“Now you know why I didn’t want to join up. As a free agent, I am on equal footing with him. As a subordinate, he would have me shot for treason.”

“You might not be one of us, but please do not forget that  _ I _ am a soldier of the Brotherhood of Steel. I have sworn my life to upholding our cause.” His eyes shone with a new fear. The fear that her death at his hands would be inevitable. She would not voice the words in her heart. That she believed if the time came, if there was a choice to be made, he would refuse to strike her down. But to voice it would weaken him, and so she kept it to herself.

-

“You have a visitor.” Preston’s shadow fell over Edun where she lay the braided rug, spooning Dogmeat and toasting in the sun. Dogmeat flicked an ear in Preston’s direction but did not open his eyes. Edun had lost all feeling in the arm his head rested on, but he was too cute to move, so she stayed put.

“What is it with you people and blocking perfectly good sun?” She complained. “Tell whoever it is to come back. I’m busy. Extremely busy, filing very important papers or something.” She lowered her head again and burrowed it into the dog’s thick ruff.

“Edun,” Preston sighed, “He said he’s here to see the Courser killer. If I had to guess, I would say this shifty guy is one of your acquaintances from the Railroad.”

“Shifty? Gotta be Deacon. I’d ask what he looks like, but that tends to change.” She rubbed Dogmeat’s belly and the dog stretched and elongated his body with enjoyment.

“He’s at the gate insisting he see you. What do you want me to do with him?”

“Ugh. Send him over. I’m not moving.”

Preston retreated, and a few minutes later someone _else_ was blocking her sun. Edun cracked an eye and looked up at the wastelander clad in a mishmash of clothing, road leathers, and armor. Dark glasses concealed his eyes, as always.

“Deacon. Nice outfit.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “I call it Wastelander camo. ‘ _ This is my pile of garbage, asshole. Back off. _ ’ Good, right?”

“Uncanny,” she agreed, closing her eye again. “Do me a favor and take two steps to the right.” Deacon did, and a beam of sun fell over Edun’s face again. “Ah, that’s better. Thank you. Now, to what do I owe this pleasure? I didn’t think the Railroad did house calls.”

“Well, two things, actually. For one, Des has been freaking out since she heard you went to the Institute. It’s been a couple weeks, and I guess she started to worry you weren’t going to clue us in to what you found there.”

“I fully planned to,” Edun sighed. “I had other things to attend to first. Like talking the Brotherhood down from wanting to aerate me with big bullets. And then I had to hunt down some super mutants who abducted settlers from their farm. And then Dogmeat needed snuggles. So here I am, snuggling Dogmeat. Since you’re here, you saved me a trip. I have a holotape full of Institute data for you.”

“Do you now,” Deacon seemed surprised. “I wasn’t sure you’d have any interest in helping us. It seems like you and the Institute have a blossoming relationship going.”

“If one more person gives me shit for wanting my arm back, I fucking swear I’ll punch them in the nose,” Edun warned. Dogmeat punctuated the sentiment with a low growl, and Deacon chuckled.

“Easy, easy. I’m just yankin’ your chain.”

“What’s the other thing? You said you came here for two things.”

“I was actually wondering if you’d help me do something.” 

Edun sighed and reluctantly roused herself, wiggling her numb arm out from beneath Dogmeat. He made some noises of disapproval, but flopped back to the rug and closed his eyes. It would seem the denizens of the Commonwealth were hell-bent on interrupting her naptime. She might as well get used to it.

“What exactly are we doing?” She asked.

“I’ve got a job that’s too big for me alone. A while back, our old headquarters were hit by the Institute. Only a handful of us got out alive. The rest...well, they’re still there. There was no time for the survivors to grab anything. We left behind something important. Really important. That’s what I need your help with. We go in, face any synths still patrolling the place, and get that item back.”

“Why are you asking me, and not one of your fellow Railroadies?” 

Deacon shook his head. “Des doesn’t even know I’m doing this. She says we have lost enough people, and wants all of us to steer clear of that place. But I can’t do that. We need that item, and...I need to see what’s left of the place.”

“I’m surprised you trust me with this. Seems like everyone thinks I’m in bed with the Institute now. Why don’t you?” 

“I’ve been watching you since the day you tumbled out of that vault covered in your own blood,” Deacon replied. “I’ve been one step behind you all this time, and never once have you done anything that would make me believe you to be anything other than the real deal. That’s kind of high praise, coming from me, just so we’re clear.”

“All I heard out of that was a confession to your stalking me,” Edun said with a raised brow. It was good to know the Institute wasn’t on the warpath with her. She had enough to chew on with Elder Maxson circling her like a carrion bird. Helping Deacon now would only help engender good will with the Railroad, and more than that...She really did want to help them. Mixed feelings on the Institute aside, she believed in the Railroad’s cause. Now, more than ever. She just wasn’t sure if their cause was deserving enough to destroy an entire organization. She hoped an outside view of things might turn the Institute’s thinking around. If she could bend Shaun’s ear, at least, there might be hope. The bond between them, though new and tenuous, was a foot in the door for discussion. “Stalking aside, count me in,” she assented at last.

“We’re gonna make an awesome team. Which one of us gets to ride the hellhound into battle?”

“Oh, this is  _ my _ hellhound. You’ll have to get your own,” Edun laughed, looking down at the pancake of a German Shepherd still lying in the sun. “Let me grab my gear, and I guess we’ll get this show on the road.”

According to Deacon, their destination was just outside of Lexington. It was half a day’s walk if they made good time, and with the morning light streaming through the trees, they set out through Sanctuary. Edun located Preston standing by the gate and chatting with a handful of recruits. She gave him a lingering kiss, much to the embarrassment of all but Edun and Preston, and told him where she was going. He eyed her gear and gave her an approving nod, then turned back to his welcoming speech. He had taken to commanding the Minutemen like a duck to water, just as she knew he would. Preston was the sort of man who was humble to a fault, often deferring to the abilities of others when he was more than capable himself. He had helped her kill that Deathclaw the day they met. She had not done that alone. He had helped her every step of the way along her journey, carrying a load equal to if not greater than hers at times. When she looked at him now and saw the new way he carried himself - confidence fitting him like a well-tailored suit - she felt an overwhelming sense of pride.

Deacon was surprisingly chatty. He was the type who had a comment for every occasion and made a joke out of everything. Edun was all but convinced that half the things tumbling from his lips were lies, but she expected as much from a man whose entire job was gathering intel. People tended to be more forthcoming when they saw you as another member of the flock, rather than a wolf at its borders. She had little interest in playing along with the game, however. If he wanted to know things about her, all he needed to do was ask. She left playing chicken to politicians and drag racers. They crossed through the Starlight Drive-In around noon. She had cleared the place of its mole rat infestation long ago, and now there was nothing here but silence and skeletal remains half out of their rusted cars. She had considered founding a settlement here. There was a lot of open ground for planting crops, but she had been bumper to bumper busy for months now. It would wait.

“You know you’re the only person to ever make it into the Institute?” Deacon observed as she rummaged through the counters of the concession stand. “That’s...Woah. You’re crazy determined.” 

“You know why I had to get there, I’m sure. You seem to know a lot about me.” Something rattled. A caps stash, excellent. In the distance, Dogmeat trotted around the old theater grounds, sniffing the old burrows the mole rats had resided in. He’d had a wonderful time when they first came here. The only thing Dogmeat loved more than snack cake eating was chasing mole rats.

“Only rumors,” Deacon shrugged.  _ Like she believed that.  _ “Heard your boy was in there. I can understand wanting to get him back from those goons.”

“Not my son, no. But a child I was responsible for, yes.” She tucked two cans of purified water into her pack.

“What was it like?” Deacon asked. No doubt he’d heard many accounts from synths, but she had a unique view of things they may not. “Total spook show?”

She eyed him as she stood up behind the counter. “It’s...Big. Disturbingly clean. Some of the people running the place seem...okay. Well-intentioned. Some are…assholes.” Justin Ayo’s face appeared in her mind.

“And the uh… head honcho?” He pressed. 

“I don’t know.” She meant the words. “He’s...a complex personality. Still figuring out where on the scale between god and devil he falls.” 

“A man who condones slavery can’t be very close to the God side,” Deacon commented. “Hope you realize that.”

She slammed a drawer, and to his credit he didn’t jump. “I’m aware. Thank you, Professor of Ethics.”

“No, man, Professor operates out of Goodneighbor. I’m Deacon.”

“Wise ass,” she said sweetly. Deacon chuckled. She finished digging through the place, and after taking a few more items of value, they left the old drive in and continued their journey.

As they neared Lexington, Deacon began to slow, and she could tell he was looking for something specific.

“Need help finding your glasses?” She asked.

He threw her a  _ look.  _ “Here’s the thing. The Switchboard is still crawling with synths, and the front entrance is mined all to hell. The safest way in is gonna be through the maintenance tunnel. It’s around here somewhere. I had the genius idea to cover it with brambles, and now it’s a little harder to find.”

Edun joined in the search, and eventually spied a telltale hole buried beneath a pile of foliage. 

“Deacon,” she called as she pushed branches aside. “This isn’t a fucking maintenance tunnel. This is a sewer.”

“Oh, did I say maintenance tunnel?” He asked innocently. “Oops.”

“ _ Oops  _ is what you say when you forget to tie your shoe. Not what you say after you condemn your new friend to wading through literal shit. Dogmeat, look away. I don’t want you to see what I’m about to do.”

“It’s… very old shit?” Deacon offered helpfully.

“I’m going to kill you when we’re done here,” she replied irritably, pushing the old metal door open. 


	37. The Switchboard

“I guess I should explain the reason we’re here,” Deacon said as Edun fiddled with the security console to override the door.

“Aren’t we here to pick up some magic item?” Edun was biting her lip in concentration as she tapped at the keys. Once again, she was grateful to have her left hand back. So much easier typing 100wpm rather than 10.

“Well, yes. The  _ magic item  _ is a prototype Doc Carrington was working on. It’s invaluable.”

“Okay,” Edun shrugged, then hissed “ _ Yes! _ ” as the terminal beeped and she was into the system. Around the corner, she could hear the security door swing open.

“Nice work,” Deacon commended as she resumed her grip on the shotgun. “Now, there’s gonna be a lot of Gen 1 and Gen 2 synths farther in, but between the two - er, three - of us, we should be able to handle them.”

She headed through the door, walking as quietly as she could on the corrugated steel walkway. So far there had not been any dubious puddles, but as she made her way down a flight of stairs she saw ankle deep sewage water. She cringed. It would seem her luck had run out. Or that she had  _ shitty _ luck. Boy, she was really up  _ shit creek _ now. Har, har. An electronic voice startled her, and a Gen 1 synth stepped out from behind a pillar. It peered at her with those awful buggy eyes, and she and Deacon both froze for a moment on the steps.

“Scanning unknown identity...Clearance granted,” the machine said. Then it moved it’s eyes to Deacon.

Edun fired a slug into the alien face before it could finish its scan of Deacon.

“Why the hell didn’t that thing shoot you?” Deacon demanded, brows raised.

“Apparently I’m still in my grace period. You’re lucky you brought me with you. I make an excellent human shield.”

“They shot at you in ArcJet,” he pointed out.

“You were stalking me even then? Jesus, Deacon, that’s just fucking weird.”

“I had to be sure you weren’t the Doom of the Commonwealth,” he shrugged, but she was amused to see he looked slightly abashed.

“As for ArcJet...maybe at the time they didn’t have me in their system. Who knows. At the very least, I know the Coursers are not allowed to touch me.”

“You have  _ Courser  _ immunity?” Deacon was incredulous. “Holy shit. I could have you help with  _ so  _ many ops. Glory could go on a vacation.”

“I am trying really fucking hard not to rock the boat, Deacon.  _ Any _ of the boats.” She stepped into the river of ick and waded through, cursing everyone who had ever wronged her as she tried not to look at the sludgy green muck around her boots. Deacon pointed out a marker indicating a stash left by someone named Maven, and Edun crouched to collect the handful of ammo boxes left behind by the woman.

“That was our way,” Deacon muttered, looking down at the dead woman who still lay where she had been shot. “If you know you’re not gonna make it, you do everything you can to help whoever follows in your footsteps.”

“I’m sorry,” Edun said softly. The laser wounds in the woman’s back spoke volumes. She had been killed by synths, shot in the back while running for her life. Her greatest crime had been participating in freeing synths from captivity. It was sobering.

As they worked their way through the tunnels, and far more sludge than Edun was happy about, they passed more and more bodies. The Railroad had taken one hell of a beating during the incursion. The smell of rot and decay, combined with the sewage, was overwhelming. Dogmeat seemed entirely unbothered by it, but Edun dug out her bandanna and tied it around her face. The last time she had smelled something like this, it was atop the freighter at Libertalia. Though this was worse...much worse. Edun had seen one Courser in action, and these people had faced _multiple_ Coursers. It was a slaughter. It was no small wonder Des was terrified of sending any people out. The majority of their ranks were floating face down in the murk of sewer tunnels.

They encountered more Gen 2 synths. Again, none of them attacked her - targeting Deacon and Dogmeat instead. Not even the damn dog was safe. Without needing to duck or dodge, Edun cleared them out easily while Deacon fired from cover. These were not clean and maintained like the ones she had seen around the Institute. These were the cast-offs, missing parts or the acrylic body panels melted, cracked, or broken away. They reminded her a little of Nick, resembling his motley appearance. She needed to stop by and see the old Detective. So much had happened since she last saw him in the Memory Den. If she was being honest, it was hard to forget about Kellogg’s voice coming out of his mouth. It wasn’t a fair paranoia, she knew that. But she never wanted to hear that voice again.

“You know, some members of the Railroad think the Gen 1 and Gen 2s should be freed, too,” Deacon mused as he nudged one of the fallen Gen 2s. 

“I’m starting to understand Proctor Quinlan’s joke about Railroad people rescuing toasters,” Edun commented drily.

Deacon shrugged. “I mean, why not, right?”

“Trying to suck me into another moral debate?” Edun asked archly as they exited a blessedly dry tunnel into a large building.

“You got me,” Deacon raised his hands. The large room ahead was teeming with synths, and Edun turned to Deacon and Dogmeat.

“Stay,” she said firmly to the dog. “Stay,” she repeated to Deacon.

“Oh Captain my captain,” Deacon answered mockingly. Edun rolled her eyes and moved on. She hacked through the security gate and entered the large lobby. They were in some kind of basement. Old desks and chairs lay turned over, and papers were scattered all over the floor from a ransacking by synths, no doubt. She made her way through the building, shooting and killing the patrolling synths without repercussion. It would seem being Shaun’s pal really had benefits. At most, the synths scanned her before moving on. It was as close to shooting fish in a barrel as she could get, and she felt almost guilty doing it. When it was clear, she made her way back to where her companions waited.

“Switchboard is served,” she said with a bow.

“I could tell Des the truth about this and she would still think I was lying,” Deacon shook his head as he stepped over the deactivated synths strewn about. “This place is pretty neat, huh? Used to be a secret base for the Defense Intelligence Agency. Nobody knew about it. Made the perfect headquarters for our clandestine little group, so...we moved in. Made ourselves at home.”

Edun followed Deacon up the stairs to the office overlooking the floor, and down a hall to the left. There were more synths here, which she and Deacon made short work of. It really did help being a human shield. When Deacon stood behind her, the synths lowered their guns and looked puzzled. Finally, they entered a room with an enormous security door. Heavy and steel, it looked like the sort of thing you might see in a bank vault.

“Allow me,” Deacon moved forward, accessing the terminal mounted to the wall. He pulled something out of his pocket, and pressed a button. The voice of Doc Carrington came on, tinny but legible.

_ “Carrington, Stanley. Salus aegroti suprema lex.”  _ There was a click, then a grinding noise, and then the enormous door slowly began to swing open. The godawful stench was the first thing Edun noticed, and she pressed her hand to her bandanna, willing it to do a better job of filtering. Deacon’s eyes looked watery, but he strode into the small room anyway. The body lying on the floor inside had seen much better days; Edun could see by the staining of one pant leg and the large puddle of dried blood beneath the man that he had bled to death from a gunshot wound to the leg. A pile of the charred remains of documents and files was at the center of the room.

“So Tommy Whispers didn’t make it out alive,” Deacon sighed. “He died protecting our secrets. Man, this...fucking sucks. I figured as much, but seeing him here…” He passed a hand over his face, rubbing his forehead and trying to compose himself. Edun let him have a moment, turning to peruse the shelves lining the wall. Resting on one was a stealth boy unlike any she had seen before. She picked it up, examining it.

“That’s what we came here for,” she heard Deacon say behind her. He was rising to his feet, his face looking tired and worn. She handed the item to him, and he unslung his pack and tucked the prototype inside. “Here,” he added, extending something to her. “You should have this.” He was holding out a sleek little silenced .10mm pistol to her. Edun took it, the grip cool against her fingers.

“Why?” she asked, confused at the gift.

Deacon shrugged. “Seems like you’ve avenged ol’ Tommy’s death. I think he’d appreciate that.”

She nodded and tucked the gun into a side pouch. “Thanks.” 

“There’s an elevator a little further down the hall. It will take us up into the Slocum Joe’s. Can you believe that? They hid this place under a Slocum Joe’s.”

_ Man _ , if she had a dime for every time she had stopped at a Slocum Joe’s for a coffee and a donut...Nostalgia washed over her, and she shook it off. That world was long gone. It was dead. So was everyone else who had been alive to remember it. Except maybe ghouls. Did ghouls miss donuts? She led the way out, shooting two more synths that were guarding the elevator. They were silent on the short ride, and upon exiting the elevator they had three more Gen 2s and a turret to contend with. Deacon had lost his former chattiness. He might be a flippant man, but she knew he was hurting after wading through the graveyard of his fallen friends. Outside the Slocum Joe’s, he turned to her. 

“Thanks to you, that was a hell of a lot easier than I thought it would be.”

“We make a pretty good team,” Edun said with a smile.

“Let’s head back to HQ. I’ve got an epic yarn I need to spin for Des. I think she will be pretty happy about what we’ve accomplished today.”

“Why spin a yarn? Just tell her what happened, you weird-ass.”

Deacon gave her a slinky little smile and tilted his glasses just enough to flash a set of bright blue eyes at her. “Now where is the fun in that?”

-

Their pit stop in Goodneighbor had turned into drinks at the Third Rail. Drinks at the Third Rail turned into a drinking contest, as most things did when alcohol and Edun were involved. Edun had challenged Deacon to Two Truths and a Lie. It seemed a fitting game, considering his penchant for deception. The rules were simple. If you guessed wrong, you were at the mercy of the other’s pour. If you wanted more details on an answer, you had to drink. Deacon, smug in his ability to  _ spin a yarn,  _ accepted the challenge. He was grievously underestimating her tolerance for liquor, but Edun didn’t plan to let him on to that. This was a language he understood, and just as he had spent the entire day trying to pry information out of her, she was going to spend the better part of the night prying information out of  _ him.  _ Fire with fire, motherfucker. She would even let him keep those stupid shades on.

He smirked at her from across the table as Edun set the bottle of single malt scotch between them.

“I’ll go first, since you are a humble guest at my party,” Edun said graciously. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Let’s see. I...Never went to college. I lost my virginity to a cheerleader. And...I am a surprisingly terrible pilot.”

She knew his eyes were burning holes into her from behind his glasses, searching for a tell. Any tell. Unfortunately for poor Deacon, Edun was no amateur when it came to poker face.

“The cheerleader part. That’s a lie.” He sounded so confident.

“Sorry, baby,” she consoled him, pouring a small amount of scotch into his glass. “Her name was Bethany, and she could do incredible things with those long legs of hers.” She watched his mouth stretch into a smile before he downed the drink, coughing as it burned its way down his throat.

“Well, damn. That’s...Damn. Okay, now it’s  _ my  _ turn,” he rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I wear glasses because I have photosensitivity issues. I’m actually left handed, but trained myself to be right handed. And...I’m a synth.”

“That’s not how this game is played, Deacon,” Edun said reprovingly. “That’s  _ three _ lies you just told me.”

He chuckled. “You can’t prove that.”

“You wear glasses because you’re a sneaky little fucker who doesn’t want to give anything away in a conversation. You’re definitely not left handed, you can’t even _reload_ l eft handed. And as for the synth thing...Bullshit. I’m not buyin’ it. My gut tells me that one is definitely a load of brahmin dung. And I’m an  _ expert  _ on brahmin dung. Just ask Hancock.” The aforementioned Hancock was across the bar, lounging on a chaise and having an animated conversation with a particularly impressive set of tits.

Deacon sighed, and this time he poured the scotch for himself. He tried to go easy on it, but Edun caught his hand and tipped the bottle until he groaned. “You’re too smart for your own good,” he gasped as he set the glass down again. “Your turn.”

“I’m actually mildly allergic to dogs. I’ve known Hancock in the biblical sense. I hate carrots.”

She saw him turn his head slightly towards the animated mayor, then slowly back towards her with a knowing smirk. “Oh, the dog allergy. Definitely.”

“You were fucking in town when it went down, weren’t you, stalker.” It was a statement rather than a question, and she laughed as Deacon poured far more scotch for her than she had for him. She drank it down without complaint.

“The two of you made quite the ruckus that night. I swept garbage for two hours while watching you make a fool of yourself,” he grinned.

Deacon turned his glass around and around within the cage of his fingers, and Edun could see he was weighing the risk vs. reward of this game. He wanted to get to the heart of things desperately, but in a stalemate of tit for tat, everyone lost. His curiosity was winning out as the scotch plied his system, exactly as she’d intended it to.

“I’ve been in a gang. Tommy Whisper and I were lovers. I’ve dressed up as a woman for a mission.”

“You have  _ not  _ been in a gang.”

“Bottoms up,” he said sweetly, pouring a finger of scotch into her glass. She raised a brow at him as she slammed the glass back down.

“If I hadn’t joined the military, I would have gotten married and had five kids. My biggest fear is bears. I stole a car once.”

“There is no fuckin’ way you would be a little housewife in suburbia.”

She chuckled. “Yeah I think I’d rather face an army of bears on unicycles.”

“I’ve undergone facial surgery dozens of times. I’ve seen an alien spaceship. I want to join the Brotherhood.”

“We both know you’re not at _all_ interested in the Brotherhood,” Edun said scathingly. 

“I think I’d look super handsome in one of those power suits,” Deacon protested halfheartedly.

“You’re going to have to explain further on that...alien spaceship thing,” she prodded.

“You know ze rules.”

She made an irritated noise and poured herself a drink, downing it in one smooth gulp.

“It’s true,” Deacon insisted. “I watched a flying saucer crash. Remind me to show you where...when the world isn’t spinning so fast.”

“I went streaking through the Institute. I’m a widow by my own hand. I can’t carry a tune to save my life.” The second truth tore through her heart, but she kept her poker face. You had to lose some to win some.

She could see the indecision in him as he struggled with her options. She had given him two juicy tidbits in there, and he wanted to seize upon them desperately.

“There’s no way the streaking thing is true,” he decided at last.

“Sweet Deeks, you have so much to learn about me,” she chuckled as she poured him an overly generous portion.

“You can’t leave me hanging like that,” he begged, after downing his drink. “I need details!”

“I will tell you more in exchange for another shot,” she grinned. Groaning, he pushed his glass towards her. His cheeks were pink already. Such a sweet little lightweight.

She told him the story about teleporting into the middle of the atrium in her underpants, and he actually  _ giggled.  _

“I would give anything to see the looks on their perfect little faces,” he sighed. “I guess it’s my turn, then, huh?” Edun nodded, enjoying this loosened up Deacon immensely. “Okay. I...Didn’t want to join the Railroad. I am deathly allergic to shellfish. I think Mayor McDonough is doing a great job.”

“Mayor McDonut, obviously. Don’t be lazy, Deacon. Why didn’t you want to join the Railroad?”

“You want answer, you must drink,” He said with an exaggerated accent, sliding the bottle towards her. She sighed and took it, pouring herself a small amount.

He sighed. “I used to be part of a gang that...really didn’t like synths. The murder-y kind of dislike. The Railroad approached me after the gang and I...parted ways. I took some persuading.” 

“And here I was, thinking you were a ride-or-die kind of boy like my sweet Paladin Danse,” Edun commented.

“Ugh, don’t compare me to that tin soldier,” Deacon wrinkled his nose.

“He’s not so bad,” Edun smiled. “Just a little misled.”

“Are  _ you _ a little misled?” Deacon asked, swaying slightly in his chair.

She leaned closer. “That’s not how this game works,” she whispered.

“Then get to the good stuff while I can still sit upright,” Deacon whispered back.

She sat back in her chair. Might as well give him what he craved. “I’m afraid my view of the Institute is tainted by their kindness, and it will compromise me in the end. I’m afraid I will have to make the choice to destroy them, and that I won’t have the strength to do it. And...I think Travis is an amazing DJ.”

“Travis,” Deacon said softly. She nodded, her thoughts cloudy and troubled. Deacon was more than a little drunk now, and his words came out slightly slurred.

“I stood by and watched while my gang lynched an innocent man. I don’t see myself as a good person. I’ve never worn a wig.” 

She didn’t need to say it. They both knew. Edun poured them both another round, and the two clinked their glasses together before downing them.

“To trying desperately to right the failures of our past,” she slurred.

“To that terrible DJ Travis,” Deacon echoed, falling out of his chair. Edun grinned. This had been too easy.  _ This is one game you’ll never win with me, Deacon. _


	38. The Course of Commonwealth History

She had to practically carry Deacon to the Hotel Rexford. He was far too drunk to stay upright on his own. As they scuffled through the streets, he belted out  _ Ain’t That a Kick in the Head _ at full volume. None of the city watch paid them any mind. This wasn’t the first time Edun had caused a drunken scene in Goodneighbor, and they obviously figured it wouldn’t be the last. Being the mayor’s buddy meant they turned a blind eye to her antics. Unless maybe someone tied their shoelaces together, at any rate…

She counted out the extra caps for Dogmeat’s stay before Clair could open her mouth. Edun knew the drill, and Clair took the caps with a wry smile before wordlessly handing Edun the keys.

“You could at least get his other arm, you know,” Edun complained to the dog as she labored up the stairs with the full weight of Deacon against her. “I don’t know why I bring you along if all you’re going to do is sit there and watch me struggle.”

Dogmeat yawned at her and trotted up the stairs easily, rubbing salt in the wound. She dumped Deacon unceremoniously on his bed, pulling off his shoes and lifting his legs onto the mattress. 

“My head keeps...Spinning…” Deacon mumbled.

“I know, we’re going to get you all tucked in and--”

“I go to sleep and keep...Grinning…”  _ Oh. He was still singing.  _ She chuckled, threw a blanket over him, and staggered off to find her own room. She was more than a little drunk, though nowhere near as drunk as Deacon. She vowed she would get up early enough to squeeze in a nice hot bath before they left Goodneighbor. Dogmeat, without a Preston to betray her with, obligingly climbed into the bed next to her. She threw an arm over him, and he politely licked her face until she drifted off into dreamland. 

  
  


_ The civilian picked up one of the pamphlets on the table, examining the military propaganda with a raised eyebrow. _

_ “Tell me,” he said easily, looking up to meet her eyes. “Does everyone in the USAF look like you?” _

_ Edun knew a come-on when she heard one, and ordinarily she’d have responded with something acerbic. Ordinarily. But the man standing before her was devastatingly handsome. He wore fitted khaki slacks, a smart little sportcoat with capped elbows, and a button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone. Not too much, showing just the right amount of golden neck. His hair was thick and dark, a couple strands of silver shot through the temples were the only thing hinting at his age. He had a generous chin that was balanced by a heavy, chiseled jaw. High cheekbones and vivid blue eyes gave him an almost exotic appearance. Edun cleared her throat, adjusted the stack of pamphlets, and suddenly found herself considerably less peeved about being stuck at this booth and made to pander to the masses.  _ They want Americans to meet a real soldier. Someone who has seen what’s at stake out there and knows the importance of duty, _ her CO had told her. That was translation for,  _ You’re still in deep shit over the incident with the command tent and the firecrackers. This is your punishment. 

Punishment, my ass _ , Edun thought now, her cheeks hot as she squirmed under the man’s intent gaze. _

_ “Nope,” she answered at last. “I’m special edition. Like the Nuka Quantum flavored Sugar Bombs, only less exciting.” _

_ “You are many things, my dear, but unexciting is not one of them,” he replied smoothly. He extended a hand. “James. And you are…?” _

_ She pointed at her name tag. “Airman Kowalski.” _

_ “Your first name is Airman? What a beautiful and unique name,” he teased. _

_ “Edun,” she confessed. “It’s Edun.”  _

_ “Now that’s the sort of name I expect to go with a face like yours. Unforgettable.”  _

_ Oh, but he was good at this. Too good. The heat in Edun’s cheeks grew to an all-out flush, and she knew she was likely beet red under the scrutiny of this polished and beautiful man. _

_ “Tell me, Edun,” her name was a caress from his lips. “Do you get a lunch break?” _

_ She hesitated. She liked where this was going. Men like him didn’t just pop up and start hitting on her every day. On the other hand, she had her orders. She would be deploying soon, and she hated the pressure long distance relationships put on her. She decided it was absurd to worry like this. He wasn’t asking her to marry him. He was asking her to lunch. If that resulted in a little tumble or two before her deployment, what was the harm? _

  
  


Edun woke with the feeling she was being watched. Sure enough, Deacon was stretched out in the chair by her window. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, and he regarded her silently. Edun spoke first.

“You have got to get a handle on this stalking thing,” she said, before looking down at her dog. Dogmeat whumped his tail against the coverlet, but otherwise remained a lazy bed potato. “And  _ you  _ are a terrible perimeter alarm. What if Deacon was here to murder me?”

“I underestimated you,” Deacon mused, more to himself than her. “You are disturbingly good at prying information out of people they don’t want to share. You’re a talented woman. You’d make one hell of a Railroad agent.”

“I’m sorry if you felt uncomfortable with the sharing session. It wasn’t my intention to pry into sensitive subjects,” she apologized, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

“No, no, it’s...okay. It was unexpected, but not so terrible. I don’t typically let people get that close. You can’t trust anyone in this line of work. Hell, I don’t even know that I can trust  _ you _ .”

“You clearly trust me a little, or you wouldn’t have taken me to Switchboard with you,” Edun pointed out. 

“Can I ask you something?” Deacon was finally approaching whatever bee was in his bonnet.

“Of course.”

“I don’t want to have to drink anything to get this out of you. I’m pretty sure liquor would kill me at this point.  _ Please _ don’t make me. My eyeballs have individual heartbeats right now.”

“Whatever you want to know, just ask. I promise I won’t make you drink,” she chuckled.

“What did you mean when you said you were a widow by your own hand?”  _ Ouch.  _ Going straight for the jugular, then.

“My husband and I...we were separated near the end. He was at work in Cambridge the day the bombs fell. I was...well, you know where I was.”

“Damn,” Deacon whispered. “Shit luck, huh?”

“Yeah. Shit luck. Anyway, a while back, I was in the area of my former home. I had RJ with me. I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to stop by the old digs and see what had changed. I guess I was seeking closure, maybe. James - my husband - was there. He hadn’t died. He was turned into a ghoul, and spent all the time I was in the vault looking for me. We talked. He begged me to end his misery. He had been alone for two centuries, and... they had not been kind to him.”

“So you did, then. You ended his misery.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t what I wanted. He forced my hand. Turned a gun on RJ and told me if I wouldn’t do it, he would shoot the kid. I couldn’t let him do that, so...I shot him. He was  _ my _ husband, and I couldn’t let RJ do it. I owed James  _ that _ much.” 

He stared out the window, his eyes unreadable behind the ever-present glasses. “The past has a funny way of coming back to bite us, doesn’t it,” he said softly. She waited for more, but whatever was torturing him was not something he was willing to share yet.

“Why don’t you go see about some sort of breakfast,” she suggested. “The greasier, the better. I’m going to wash the stink of Switchboard off me in the meantime.”

“Yeah, good plan,” he snapped out of his reverie and headed towards the door. Dogmeat, sensing the winds of food, hopped off the bed and trotted after Deacon. Edun threw a pillow at his retreating form.

“Traitor,” she muttered.

She rushed through her bath, not sure how long Deacon would take and not sure he wouldn’t just barge in on her mid-armpit scrub. She mourned the lost chance at languishing, suited up, and opened her door. Deacon was leaning against the wall opposite her doorway, a parcel in his hand. He extended the item to her, and she took it gingerly.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Some sort of steak sandwich. Best I could do.”

“Sounds awesome, actually,” she delved into the parcel and ate as she walked, ignoring the pair of enormous brown eyes staring up at her as they made their way out of the hotel. Deacon insisted he knew all the safest back alleys for their return to HQ, so Edun followed his lead, licking her fingers and throwing the dog half of her sandwich. Deacon turned back to look at her with disapproval, and she shrugged innocently. He took her to a different access point from the first time she had been to the Railroad. Rather than going through the church catacombs, he stood guard while she crawled down a manhole and then follow suit, sliding the cover back into place.

Des was going over reports when the two of them walked in, and she straightened, taking a long drag on her cigarette before speaking.

“Where have the two of you been?” 

“Edun and I just cleared out the Switchboard,” Deacon said. “Well, I mean, she did pretty much all the work. She fought off a hundred synths while double-wielding miniguns, and carried me out of there after. It was incredible.” 

Desdemona did not even respond to that. She rolled her eyes, sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What were you doing in the Switchboard? I told you I didn’t want anyone going there. It’s far too dangerous.”

“We retrieved Carrington’s prototype,” Deacon proclaimed gleefully. “And kicked some major synth ass while doing it.”

“Well, that’s...Something.” Desdemona stubbed out her cigarette. “Deacon, why don’t you return the prototype to Doc while I have a chat with your friend here.” Deacon bowed and sauntered off. Edun had a feeling he was only going to walk as far as staying within earshot allowed.

“Deacon tells me you’ve been to the Institute,” Desdemona turned to Edun. “Said he thought you were maybe a little...too chummy with them.” She gestured at Edun’s arm.

“Yes. I enjoyed the benefits of their technology and now I’m a slave-driving murderer of innocents,” Edun sighed.

Desdemona shrugged. “I need to know what we’re dealing with here. Lives are at stake. Your helping Deacon with Switchboard has given me some hope. So, let me ask you…If your intentions are not to help _ them _ , then can I assume you would be willing to help us?” 

“What do you need?” Edun asked cautiously.

"Do you intend to return to the Institute?” 

“Yes. I have a lot more investigating to do, among other things. Why?” 

Desdemona leaned closer. “There is a man - or woman, we’re not sure - inside the Institute, who helps synths escape to freedom. Dozens of synths owe him their lives. We don’t know his name. We’ve never had a way to contact him. So we gave him the code name  _ Patriot.  _ I need you to make contact with him.”

“How am I supposed to manage that, if you don’t even know who they are?” Edun was skeptical.

“Tom had an idea about that. We can plant an encoded message on a terminal, and if it goes well...he’ll respond.” 

Edun mulled it over. “As long as it’s not traceable back to me, sure. I’ll do it. Deacon has something for you, speaking of. The last time I was there, I ran a scan of their network. Made you a copy of the data pulled. It’s all on the holotape.”

Desdemona raised her eyebrows. “That...goes a  _ long  _ way towards building trust. That information will be absolutely invaluable to us. Thank you.”

“I suppose this means I’m going back sooner than I planned to,” Edun sighed. “Ah, well. At least the food is good.”

“See Tom. He can set you up with the holotape holding the encrypted message,” Desdemona said. “I’m going to...get to work on that data you gave Deacon.”

Edun was left standing at the table, looking down at the papers Desdemona had been flipping through. They were files on suspected Institute informants, including a dossier from Tinker Tom claiming the birds of the Commonwealth were Institute spies. Edun’s first thought was one of dismissal, but then she remembered the synthetic gorillas she had seen in BioScience, and was suddenly less sure. Her to-do list was growing again. She needed to somehow talk Madison Li into leaving the Institute, plant an encrypted message and wait for some cloak and dagger shit to unfold, and retrieve Virgil’s serum. She wasn’t about to break her word to the big guy, it had just felt...wrong to sneak around the Institute on day 1. In addition to all of that, she needed to delve into the real dirt of the Institute. Events had been set into motion, and sooner or later she was going to have to decide where she stood. 

The Brotherhood was full steam ahead, and the only thing throttling their progress at the moment was Edun’s delay on retrieving Madison. This was it. Her next trip to the Institute would decide the course of the Commonwealth’s history. She felt nothing but dread. Shaun had made synth retrieval seem like a small matter. Like he was only picking up the morning newspaper before someone else grabbed it. But she had seen the bloodbath left behind in the Switchboard. It had been a massacre, and for what? Because a handful of people helped synths find freedom and build new lives for themselves? How hard could she press Shaun for answers before he stopped seeing her through rose colored glasses and had her booted out of his Institute?

“How did it go with the boss lady?” Deacon appeared behind Edun, startling her. “What did you guys talk about?”

“You know damn well what we talked about. You were standing behind that pillar the entire conversation.”

He clutched his chest as though struck. “You wound me, Edun.”

“I have things to do,” Edun gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll see myself out.”


	39. Purging Old Grudges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old grudge is revisited, a bond solidifies, and Nick is concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gore warning :)  
> \----

After leaving the Railroad HQ, Edun decided to loop down to Diamond City. She wanted to check in with Nick and do some catching up, maybe grab a bowl of noodles… or two, or three. Dogmeat would be thrilled at a chance for a noodle recap. It meant crossing through the worst of Boston, but Edun planned to be as stealthy as possible. She wasn’t about to swing wide just to dodge a few tangles. RJ was in Diamond City again, no doubt committing some serious canoodling offenses, and she knew she could radio him for an assist...but she didn’t want to interrupt his visit to Ellie. He needed a break after everything he had been through recently.

As she walked through the streets, ears perked for the first sign of trouble, she observed a flock of motley looking crows perched atop a nearby building. They were the only variety of birds she had seen in the Commonwealth, and seemed to be everywhere. They didn’t caw or act like typical birds. They only sat and watched, shoulders hunched and little black eyes glittering as they watched her. She could see why Tinker Tom was suspicious of them...though he was suspicious of everything, even his own shadow. The man took conspiracy theories to a whole new level sometimes. Edun didn’t know whether she found them amusing or disturbing. She had skimmed his dossier about the birds of the commonwealth, and he had made some good points. On her tour of the Institute, she had seen a series of surveillance screens within the SRB. The views had looked...suspiciously bird’s eye. Thinking on it, Tom was likely correct in his paranoia. For once. She still didn’t believe she had tiny robots in her blood, but synthetic birds was a believable theory.

Tommy Whisper’s little silenced .10mm came in handy more than Edun had expected. It allowed her to dispose of the occasional feral ghoul without sending up the alarm to any mutants or raiders patrolling nearby. She stuck to the shadows and used alleys she had become familiar with. She knew where she was, for the most part. In the distance, Trinity Tower loomed over the other buildings. She gazed upon the silhouette of the enormous building, and felt fury kindle in her gut. Though her arm had been graciously replaced by the Institute, she had not forgotten the loss. She had not forgotten the rage and terror she had felt that night, or the feeling of her limb being separated from her. She realized she still harbored a grudge, and a ferocious one at that. She wanted vengeance. She was hardly in a place to enact it, though. Not alone, with a handful of grenades and a few guns. She had barely made it out of that damn tower alive before, and that was  _ with  _ Hancock and Strong for backup. Still, the closer she drew to Trinity Plaza the angrier she felt. She paused in an alley and watched the tower for some time. Even from here, she could see movement through the sections of destroyed exterior. The mutants had repopulated the building in force. It was as though she had never been there. Never slaughtered any of them.

A flash of light behind her started her from her fuming, and she spun around with the .10mm raised. X6-88 stood behind her, his face its usual mask of impassivity, regarding her coolly.

“Do you intend to shoot me, Edun?” He asked mildly. She lowered her handgun, holstered it, and allowed her body to relax.

“Not unless you scare the crap out of me like that again.”

“I apologize. I did not mean to startle you. What are you doing in this alley?” His head tilted, curious.

“Watching some old friends of mine,” she bit out. “Never mind what I’m doing here. What are  _ you _ doing here?”

“Father requested I check in with you. We have neither seen nor heard from you for a couple weeks now, and he is growing concerned that you are deliberately distancing yourself, or that your friends have alienated you from us. He is...worried for you.”

She sighed and turned back to staring at the tower. “I suppose I have been...avoiding the subject, a little. I’ve gotten more than a small amount of shit in regards to this new arm. My people fear the Institute, and now they fear me as well. I have lost their trust.”

“If their trust is so easily lost, perhaps they are not your people,” X6-88 commented, walking to stand beside her. He followed her gaze to Trinity Tower. “You are angry about something,” he observed, regarding her from behind those damnable shades.

She looked at him, weighing whether or not she wanted to share her thoughts. She supposed it didn’t matter. “That place...that tower. That’s where I lost my arm.” 

“You did not lose it,” X6-88 seemed confused. “You removed it.”

“You’re making me regret telling you anything,” she warned.

“You made a sound tactical choice. If you had not done what you did, you would either be dead or mutated.”

“The rightness of it is not the issue. The issue is that the fuckers who cost me my arm are still alive and well. By now, they have killed or changed dozens more in my stead. People who did not have the out I had.” She ground her teeth, eyes fixed ahead.

“You wish to kill them all,” X6-88 began to understand. “You want revenge.”

“The uglier part of that equation is revenge, yes,” she responded, her fists clenched. “The more responsible part of me knows I should obliterate them so nobody else ends up in the position I was in.”

“Why? What do you owe these unknown people?”

“Uh, an alternative to a horrible death?” Edun wasn’t surprised by his attitude. He had been designed to kill for the Institute.

“Those who succumb to such things are weak. It is what separates them from the strong. You survived. You are strong.” Was she imagining the note of admiration?

“Blowing off my arm with the expectation of falling to my death doesn’t make me strong. It only shows how afraid I was.”

X6-88 regarded her for a long moment. “This matters to you. This... revenge.”

“Yes, obviously. Someday I am going to come back here with a shitload of firepower, and I’m going to take that tower down.”

“Why wait? Let us do it now.” 

Edun belted out a laugh. “ _ What? _ Just the two of us? Buddy, I am not about to lose another limb. Or worse.”

“You have seen my proficiency in battle, and I have seen yours. The files on your prowess in the battlefield are extensive. Together, we can achieve your goal.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you offering to help me? Is it because Shaun told you to, or because you want to?”

“Both,” he replied after a moment. “Father has instructed me to assist you in any capacity needed. But it is more than that. You seek closure for the thing that happened to you. I...wish to assist you in that.”

“X6, you are just full of surprises.”

“Are we doing this, then?” He asked, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“I guess we are,” she laughed. “We’re going to get killed, you know.”

“We have both a tactical and cognitive advantage over those brutes,” he said confidently. “They do not stand a chance.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying they’re slow and stupid,” she grinned. She unslung her shotgun. It was time for something that packed a bigger punch.

X6-88 was kind enough to provide her with an Institute stealth device. She had never seen anything like it. It strapped to her right wrist, and according to X6, it would continue to function unless damaged in combat or manually deactivated. Though, he warned, extensive use of it could cause damage to her delicate human brain. They followed along Trinity Tower’s extensive shadow in stealth. The ground level lobby of the tower was decorated in Super Mutant chic, new victims hanging from chains, their guts spilling out from cruel slashes, eyes staring wide. Netted bags of human remains hung from the ceiling as well, and bones scattered the ground. It was as though she had never been here at all. The super mutants had gone right back to their regularly scheduled horror.

She was relieved to see X6-88 was less effective against super mutants. He could not cut through them as though they were butter, as he had with the raiders at Libertalia. Stupid or not, the sheer bulk of them demanded more effort. Edun was relieved she could contribute this time, especially with her left arm restored, and side by side the two of them fought their way through the handful of super mutants guarding the lobby. From there, they worked their way up floor by floor. It was grueling work, though with stealth engaged Edun could not see if the Courser had so much as worked up a sweat like she had. While super mutants could not see her, she knew she was covered in blood and gore from all the close range shotgun shells to ugly green mugs.

They were on the 20th floor when Edun heard the sounds of someone whimpering. She crept down the hallway, ears perked, and found herself looking into what had once been a conference room. A long table ran the length of the room, chairs tossed helter-skelter against walls or tipped over on their sides, rusted casters frozen in time. Prostrated on the table lay what remained of a human. Edun nearly threw up at the sight of him. She had to turn away for a moment, hand clasped over her mouth lest she reveal her presence to the super mutants in the room, until the dizziness and nausea subsided to a dull roar. She turned back to the scene, heart pounding in her ears. The man’s arms and legs had been cut off, the stumps tourniqueted and cauterized. There was no telling how long he had been kept here in that state, but from the way he was whimpering, he was in terrible pain. A railroad spike pinioned him to the table through one shoulder, ensuring he could not wiggle away. A fire burned in a corner of the room within a mesh trash bin, and Edun did not have to guess what was being turned over it on a metal pole, roasting slowly. It was one of the man’s legs. They had kept him here, cutting pieces of him away, and devouring him while making him watch. She realized she was shaking, a mix of rage and fear coursing through her.

The three mutants present seemed oblivious to being watched. While one turned the spit, the other two argued over which of them was stronger. They paid no heed to the sobbing man on the table. Edun could not wait any longer. Every second that man was left in agony was a second too long. There was no help for him but death, but first she must deal with the mutants. She opened fire, charging into the room, and X6-88 followed her lead. The mutants reacted too slowly, and with two dead, the third fired blindly around the room, his piggy eyes searching for the source of hostile fire. Edun jammed her shotgun barrel against the underside of his chin and fired. The mutant staggered back, great mitts grasping at her but missing as she ducked, and crashed through what remained of the enormous office window. Edun watched as he plummeted. If the round to his brain hadn’t killed him, the fall would. She turned back to the man on the table and switched off her stealth field. X6-88 shimmered into view as well, watching her silently.

“Who...What…” the man gasped, eyes focusing on her, confused and hazy from pain.

Edun pulled a syringe of Med-X from her pack and injected it into his neck, close to his heart. The relief was nearly immediate, and his ragged breathing slowed as the chem worked its way into his system.

“I’m Edun,” she said softly, stroking his sweaty and filthy forehead with her cool fingers. 

“I’m Jack,” the man replied, his voice growing languid. “Why...are you here?”

“I’m here to make sure these mutants can’t hurt anyone ever again,” she replied. He was dying. She could see that. He was on his way out before she arrived, the continuous adrenaline and fear the only things keeping him aware. Now, with the Med-X bringing him relief, she could see his hold on life gradually loosening.

“My family...they live in Goodneighbor. Marsha. She’s...my wife. Tell her...what happened to me,” he managed to gasp out. “Tell her... I’m sorry.”

“I will,” Edun promised, a lump in her throat.

“End it,” Jack begged. “Please. Just...end it.”

Edun didn’t fight him, didn’t protest. She would want the same were she in his position. She opened her pack again, drew out another syringe of Med-X, and injected it. Two full doses on a man missing all four limbs and most of his blood would be fatal. She placed a hand to his chest and waited. His eyes met hers, and she saw the fear was gone from them. There was relief in its place. It slowly faded, his breaths growing more and more shallow; until at last, with one final soft exhale, he was gone. Edun realized there were tears on her cheeks, and she wiped them away hurriedly before realizing her hands were bloody. She had smeared Jack’s blood all over her own face. A sob something like a hiccup came out of her, and she bit the inside of her cheek to retain what control she had. There was movement in her peripheral, and she looked up to see X6-88 standing beside her, holding out a square of fabric to her. She took the delicate piece of cloth from him, looking at him questioningly.

“It is a cleaning cloth. I keep it on me for wiping off my optics. You...appear to need it.” He seemed uncomfortable, and she slowly registered his intent and wiped at her face and hands with the sacrificed item.

“Thank you,” she muttered, returning the now-filthy bit of cloth to him. No doubt he was disgusted with this display of human weakness. He was unsympathetic to the people of the Commonwealth, seeing them as stupid and undeserving of survival. He couldn’t begin to understand her empathy for the man’s suffering, or her sorrow for the blow his family would receive when she shared the news with them. It would seem some things never changed. Once again, she would be standing on a widow’s doorstep with details of her husband’s death. The parallel tore her apart inside.

She reached out a hand and closed Jack’s eyes, murmuring something to him, before shouldering her pack and picking up her shotgun again. There was nothing left to do. It would be utterly impractical to try and arrange a proper burial for him. This was the wasteland. Few ever had the privilege of a funeral. Final resting places were often wherever you fell when you died, at the hands of whatever terrible creature had torn you apart. Besides, dragging him back to Goodneighbor would only make the news to Marsha more painful. To see how her husband had suffered in the end would be an unnecessary cruelty. Edun would spare the poor woman on the details. 

They continued their ascent through the tower, clearing each floor. Blessedly, Jack was the worst the place had to offer. The super mutants had infested every level, but the rest of their victims were at least dead. At long last, they stood on the top floor, and Edun stepped over the bodies of the last of the mutants. She walked to the edge and looked out through the blown-away side of the tower. It felt as though she could see the entirety of the Commonwealth from here. She leaned against the ruined wall and flipped off her stealth device. She could see what X6-88 meant about it fucking with her brain. She felt woozy and strangely hyper-aware at the same time. She had been using it continuously for the better part of an hour, and it was taxing her. The sun was dipping low, and Edun knew if she left here she would not make it to Diamond City before night fell. She might as well spend the night up here. The sunrise would be spectacular from this vantage point, at least.

“You can head back to the Institute, you know,” she said at last. “I owe you big for helping me here today. I didn’t think this feat would be possible, but...we made a good team.”

“I will stay with you and accompany you to Diamond City,” he replied. “I would prefer I know you arrived at your destination safely. Father would not be pleased if I abandoned you here, in this ruin.”

“I suppose we can sleep in shifts,” she mused. “Let’s get situated and see about dinner.”

The set up camp in one of the offices with a good view of all adjoining hallways. If anything tried to surprise them, they would see it in time. Edun wondered briefly if Coursers needed to eat or sleep, but decided that of course they did. They were organic material, just as she was, and virtually indistinguishable from humans. She had a hard time imagining X6-88 sitting down to enjoy a good brahmin steak, but he might stoically munch on a nutrition packet as needed. Unfortunately for him, he was at the mercy of what she had in her pack. Which was a variety of jerky, dried mutfruit, and canned beans. They sat cross-legged across from each other, chewing silently. It was cold as shit up here with the wind howling through the destroyed tower, but Edun willed herself not to shiver. She felt exposed, letting X6-88 see her so emotional and broken up. She’d felt like a loose cannon this entire time, lashing out in rage and despair. He must think so little of her now. He watched her silently as she rubbed Dogmeat’s belly and fed him bites of jerky.

“Your dedication to the welfare of others is a tactical flaw,” the Courser said at length. “It will get you killed.”

“There is more to life than merely staying alive or surviving,” she replied, brow raised. “Survival is our basest instinct, but without all the other things that make us human, it is an empty one.”

“You did not know that man. That... Jack. Yet you...grieved for him.”

“He was in pain and alone. He was facing death. It’s a terrible way to go.” Edun felt her throat constrict. She didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Not with the memory of his terrible suffering still so fresh.

“But he did not die alone,” X6-88 pointed out. “You stayed with him and eased his suffering. Why?”

“Because it’s what I would have wanted, were I in his position. Showing mercy to another human being is not weakness. Sometimes, like today, it takes every ounce of strength you have.” Her tone was defensive. She was waiting for judgement to fall from his lips.

“If I were in a similar predicament, would you show me the same...kindness?” He asked, voice curious.

She looked into his face, wishing she could see his eyes. She had no idea what was going on in that head of his. “Yes.”

“Even though I am a synth.”

“There is no difference to me. Born from a mother, born from a machine...You are like me. You feel things.” She prayed that wasn’t pushing things too far.

“I am an Institute Courser. It is not my prerogative to experience...feelings.” He lacked vindication in the sentiment. Edun pressed a little harder.

“I have seen you experience emotions. Pride, for one. You are proud of your position as a Courser. You are proud of your combat abilities. Pride is an emotion that is very much human. So much so it is one of the seven deadly sins.”

He snorted. “There is no god.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But humans fear the things that weaken them. It is the basis for those sins. Pride weakens us. Lust weakens us. Gluttony weakens us. And so we are conditioned to avoid it, not only by religion but also by the structures of civilization. We recognize as a species that too much of the things that make us human can destroy us. There is an old verse that goes thusly; ‘To err is human. To forgive, divine.’”

X6-88 shifted, uncomfortable. “I have no use for such things.”

“That’s okay. I am only trying to answer your questions the best I can.”

He was silent for a bit longer, chewing on his thoughts. “I would not leave you to die alone, either.” Edun was startled. The Courser continued. “It is my...duty to protect you. Should you fall, there would be consequences for me. But there is no obligation, no command, beyond protecting you. Even so, I would not leave you to die alone.” 

  
  


-

  
  


Nick Valentine looked up with his usual benign expression when Edun sauntered into his office, then rose to greet her.

“Edun, hello,” he greeted her warmly. Dogmeat charged at the Detective, winding around his legs and wagging furiously until the old synth bent down to give the dog affection. “And Dogmeat, of course,” he added as his metal hand found the best spot for scritching. Dogmeat’s leg began a thumping rhythm in tandem to the Detective’s fingers.

“I wanted to stop by and check on you. See how the kid and Ellie were doing.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I gave Ellie the day off, and the two of them disappeared. It’s just me here at the moment, doing my own paperwork.”

Edun smirked. “Sorry, Nick. I’m an inconvenient cupid, I guess. Listen, I’ve...got a lot to unpack. I wanted to chat, run some things by you. Maybe over lunch?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t really need to eat, but you do. How about we head to Power Noodles, my treat. Dogmeat included in that offer.”

The trio made their way through Diamond City. Edun had been concerned about people noticing her arm and going bonkers on her, but for the most part the population wasn’t aware of the incident, and the furtive stares seemed to be more based on the typical paranoia. They hadn’t changed a bit. Nick had earned his place here by slowly winning over the hearts and minds of the people. Edun was still an outsider, an unknown quantity, and with the exception of Nick, Piper, and the Bobrov brothers, was largely given the cold shoulder. She had no problem with that. She didn’t much like the people here either. Nick took his place on a stool and politely waved off Takahashi, who then turned to Edun with his usual query.

“Yes, please,” she told the robot as she slid onto the stool. She had missed her beloved noodles. The more entrenched she got in her various duties, the less time she had for the little niceties like this. Though she supposed getting the Railroad’s favorite agent absolutely plastered could be counted as a little nicety. 

So,” Nick began, lighting a cigarette and inhaling, “What’s got you all wound up?”

Edun watched Takahashi work for a moment before she turned to Nick. “I just had the strangest experience with a Courser. I wanted to get your take on it.”

“I’m all ears,” Nick assured her. Edun held out her hand, and with a surprised chuckle, the synth passed her his cigarette. Edun took a long, thoughtful drag. Smoking was a vice she rarely indulged in. She had quit for James, for the most part, but in times of extreme stress, she was known to hide out behind a building and have a private moment with tobacco. Who gave a shit anymore, really? With things like Deathclaws, Super Mutants, and radscorpions wandering about, why not indulge in the occasional smoke or snack cake? Nick waited patiently until she returned the smoke, mouth quirked in a smile. Takahashi delivered two bowls to Edun, who promptly set one down on the ground for Dogmeat before staring on her own.

“Let’s start with my trip to the Institute, so it makes more sense,” she began. She meticulously laid out the details of her arrival and reception, Shaun’s reaction to the truth, and her observations of the goings-on there. She described her interactions with X6-88, and the impromptu hairstyling. Then she moved on to the mission at Libertalia, and her experience watching X6-88 tear through the raiders like tissue paper before resetting Gabriel.

“So you’re telling me this Courser essentially slaughtered every raider at Libertalia nearly single handedly,” the Detective asked, tapping ash into the nearby tray. “Damn. Guess it’s a hell of a lucky thing you didn’t have to fight that one in Greenetech, huh?”

“You have no idea how grateful for that I am now. I’m not sure what I’ll do if shit goes south and one of them comes after me. But it’s more than that, Nick. I think...there’s potential there. Not just in X6-88, but in all the Coursers. They blindly follow orders, but it’s clear they are capable of more complex emotions. They are, technically, as human as we are. I have to wonder what they could become, free of Institute conditioning.”

“You’re playing with fire,” Nick warned. “By all accounts, they are ruthless killing machines. Your view is altered by your privilege of safety and the good graces of the Director. Without those things, you would be no more than another kill to them.”

She took a long draught of broth before setting her bowl down again, and shook her head. “See, I think you’re wrong. I just came from Trinity Tower. Here’s where things get a little more complex.” 

Nick was so absorbed in her tale he forgot about his cigarette, and the ash was a good inch long before he noticed. He stubbed it out in the tray absentmindedly, never taking his eyes from her as she got to the part about Jack and ending his suffering.

“That’s the thing that’s fucking me up, Nick,” she said at last, looking down at her cooling noodles. “I think he genuinely cares what happens to me.  _ Beyond _ his orders from the Institute. There’s more to him than being a killing machine... I just don’t know what that means yet. I think maybe there’s a potential for friendship there. As much as one  _ can _ be friends with an Institute Courser. He uses Shaun’s commands to justify these little human quirks he has, but...they’re entirely unnecessary.”

“Edun, I understand, I really do,” Nick said, covering one of her hands with his own. “But make no mistake. If someone ordered that Courser of yours to shoot you right now, he’d materialize in the middle of this market and put a round through your head. He’s dangerous. As dangerous as any weapon can be. Do not place too much trust in him. It will either lead to your doom, or to people you care about getting killed. Whatever this is between the two of you, there are years and years of acting as the Institute’s mindless attack dog to counterbalance it. Leopards can’t change their spots.”


	40. Something Rotten This Way Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edun's nosiness gets her in a spot of trouble.

Edun spent a few days in Diamond City. It was more for a mental break than anything. She went on an investigation with Nick, intrigued by his line of work. The missing person in question turned out to be a husband running away to live with his mistress in Goodneighbor. While there, Edun tracked down the elusive Marsha and delivered the terrible news about Jack. RJ and Ellie finally turned up eventually, looking a little glazed around the eyes. Edun knew within a moment that RJ had it bad. Real bad. The forever-kind-of-love bad. She wasn’t sure what that might mean for him, but she had a feeling the two would make it work. The way Ellie’s eyes shone when she looked at RJ told her as much. If he left, Ellie would likely follow him. Edun hoped he would stay… That the Commonwealth had become a home to him, and he could send for his little boy and establish a life here. That was the selfish part of her talking, but she loved RJ dearly. She didn’t want to lose him any more than Ellie did.

After her visit to Diamond City and the brief reunion with Nick and RJ, Edun resolved to visit the Institute again. She left Dogmeat in RJ’s care, much to the squeaky canine’s chagrin. She could only imagine how twisted Institute undies would get at the sight of a  _ filthy dog  _ cavorting in their midst. Besides, she planned to do more snooping, and had kept the stealth device X6-88 gave her. She also had the holotape from Tinker Tom for...well, _more_ sneaking around she planned to do. She felt paranoid, waiting for security to tackle her the moment the teleported in, but nobody so much as batted an eye at her.  _ As if they could read her mind _ , she scoffed. X6-88 finding her so easily in Boston had made her nervous, though. Almost afraid to return to the Railroad. What if they were tracking her somehow? It was as though the Institute really did have eyes everywhere. 

She teleported into the atrium again, but Shaun was not on his balcony. She felt herself relax a little.  _ Take it easy, Edun. He’s not going to look at you and all of a sudden know you’re here to snoop and steal secrets.  _ She just needed to play it relatively casual until most of the people had gone to sleep for the night. After stopping by her room, she wandered to the cafeteria. She ordered a nutrition packet and seated herself. She felt ridiculous. Like someone from a movie whistling innocently and looking all around in an attempt to seem innocuous.

“Is it  _ true  _ food supplement 77 has been discontinued?” Edun looked up at the loud voice and saw an Institute scientist speaking to the synth behind the counter.

“That is correct,” the Gen 2 affirmed.

“Couldn’t we have kept it a little longer?” The scientist was raising his voice. Edun watched him with an arched eyebrow. Was this the Institute equivalent of  _ Don’t you have any in the back? Can you go look? _

“I will be happy to forward your request to the BioScience division,” the synth replied. “In the meantime, please feel free to enjoy one of our many o--”

“ _ I want supplement 77 _ ,” the scientist interrupted, face red.

“I am sorry, sir, but that supplement is no longer available.”

“Useless machine,” the man snarled. “I’ll have them scrap you for parts.” He marched off, leaving the Gen 2 to blink after him. 

Edun frowned. This hadn’t been the first time she saw an interaction like that. The superiority complex ran deep with these people. She didn’t understand it. It cost nothing to be kind, even to something that did not feel emotions the way a human did. The way she saw it, if you brought a creature into your life with the intention to care for it, you owed it respect. Like a dog. The animal had no choice in the matter, and as the sentient being lording over it, you had an obligation to treat the animal with kindness. These people had created synths, and as such, were responsible for them. The position of power they had over their creations demanded they deal with them ethically, but from what she had seen, that was not the case.

“Ma’am,” a polite voice said. Edun turned and saw X6-88 watching her from the entrance.

“Oh, hey, X6. I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Father wishes to see you. He asked me to come fetch you.” 

She had been waiting for this. She was surprised it had taken as long as it did. No doubt Shaun wanted to see how she was doing...and gauge if her opinion of the Institute had soured during her absence. She nodded and followed X6-88 out. More people recognized her this time, either nodding at her in passing or averting their eyes in disgust. Clearly the tale of Edun In Her Underpants had made the rounds. She felt as though she had broken wind in the midst of a tea party involving British royalty. Mostly, though, they gave X6-88 a wide berth.

“Is it just me, or are the people here afraid of you? Moreso than usual, anyway?” Edun asked him.

“Tensions here seem to be at an all-time high,” X6-88 informed her. “We had another escape. That was the third synth in the last two weeks. Justin Ayo has taken extreme security measures, including interrogating anyone who may have knowledge of the events. As a result, the populace has been...on edge.”

“What does Shaun think of his methods?” She asked casually.

“He does not approve, but understands that it is necessary. The Railroad has repeatedly thwarted our best efforts to retrieve Institute property. If we cannot fix the problem from within, their operations will be allowed to continue unchecked.”

She was surprised at how forthcoming he was being. She had expected he would be a little tighter lipped, considering he was a Courser and therefore under Ayo’s domain. The more she saw, the more she realized that was not entirely true. X6-88 seemed to operate independently of the SRB, reporting only to Shaun.  _ That must absolutely gall Ayo,  _ Edun thought.  _ I bet he can’t stand when something is out of his control.  _ If Shaun trusted Edun, then it made sense for X6-88 to trust her. As though reading her mind, the Courser stopped her on the stairs.

“If Justin Ayo attempts to detain you, it is against express orders given by Father. You are within your rights to resist by any means necessary. No Courser would attempt such a thing, but Ayo’s staff is not limited to that one resource.”

“I have a license to punch him, huh? Good to know,” she answered. She thought she saw X6-88’s lips twitch into a smile.

He left her at Shaun’s door, inclining his head politely before striding away. She watched him go, residents parting like oil on water at his approach. He  _ was _ rather terrifying when he wanted to be. She desperately wanted to poke around in his head a little more. Her conversation with him atop Trinity Tower begged for an encore. She wanted to know if he remembered the day he was created. She wanted to know if he had independent thought outside of Institute orders. She supposed she wanted to know how  _ human  _ he really was. She thought she had seen a glimpse of depth to him that day, but she wasn’t sure of anything. She shook herself and knocked on Shaun’s door.

“Enter!” His voice answered from within.

She walked in. Shaun was at his terminal, rapidly typing in an entry. When he saw her, his face lit up in a smile and he abandoned his task, rising from his chair and greeting her with a brief hug. They seated themselves on the soft white couch, facing each other.

“How is the new arm serving you?” He beamed. 

“Like I never lost it,” she answered, waving her left hand. “Alan is good at what he does.”

“He is, isn’t he,” Shaun agreed. “As I said before, one of our brightest. I imagine your reception on the surface was laden with suspicion and paranoia.”

“You have no idea,” she sighed. 

He shook his head. “A typical human response. They fear what they cannot understand. Human history is rife with such a theme. I once read about something called the Salem Witch Trials. Absolute madness. They hanged men and women to death on the premise of them practicing  _ dark arts _ , if you can believe it. There was no true evidence, only hysteria and finger pointing. Not unlike the Commonwealth’s reaction to our secrecy. On that subject, if you feel you are in danger from zealots, please, take X6-88 with you. He can protect you much better than any of your mercenary... _ friends. _ ” 

_ Woah. Did he just offer her a personal Courser? The Railroad would have an aneurism over this.  _ “Thanks, I will...keep that in mind. As for the witches, yeah, that was much closer to my recent history than yours. Did you know there is a whole museum dedicated to that debacle? I should take you sometime.” 

He looked taken aback, unsettled, even, at the suggestion. “Oh, well, that’s...Not something I can do. As the Director, I cannot risk having anything happen to me. The surface is…a dangerous place.” 

“You’ve never been up there,” she said incredulously. “Have you?”

“There is nothing up there for me, Edun,” he replied. “I can view the planes of irradiated earth and nightmarish creatures from the safety of the Institute.” 

“There’s so much more up there than that,” she protested. “There are signs of the vegetation recovering. The Minutemen are making incredible strides on improving the safety of the Commonwealth. The Brotherhood is working to put a dent in the super mutant problem. The people have  _ hope _ , for the first time in a long time. When the Institute is ready to rejoin the surface, I think you’ll be surprised at how much better it is than you think.”

“When we rejoin the surface?” Shaun asked blankly. 

“Oh, I guess I...assumed. Isn’t that the point of creating the synth? Making humans that could better withstand the hazards aboveground?”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Shaun nodded. “I thought you meant...my people. They will remain here to live out their lives. They are not part of the plan. We are far too set in our way of doing things down here. It’s for the best.”

“Well, if you ever decide you want to let your hair down, let me know. I’ll show you everything the Commonwealth has to offer.” She’d win him over with Power Noodles. That was the way to everyone’s heart.

“You could stay down here, you know.” Shaun’s eyes had an earnest look in them. “Someone like you doesn’t belong up there, amidst all that detritus and human suffering.” 

She shook her head. “You know I can’t. I have a whole life up there. I have people who need me. People I love. My work has barely begun.”

“Then we are to be Hero and Leander, it would seem,” he smiled sadly. “The offer will always stand.”

“As will mine,” she countered.

“Tell me more about the Commonwealth and your adventures in it,” he urged. “I need a break from the tedium of being Director.” 

And so she did. There was much she could not tell him about her adventures, as it involved things like sharing Institute secrets with the Brotherhood and Railroad, or killing Institute synths to help strengthen said Railroad. She was walking a very precarious knife’s edge, the conflict of her actions and emotions creating unease in her. Still, the conversation was pleasant. Hours flew by, and it wasn’t until Edun began to yawn that the two of them realized it was evening. Shaun ushered her out, apologizing for his selfishness with her time, and promised her a special breakfast in the morning. 

Edun made her way through the Institute, pleased to see the staff had mostly retired. The activity in the halls was limited to synths bustling about and performing cleaning and maintenance, and she knew they would not bother her. She retrieved her pack from her room and headed to BioScience. The department was utterly empty of human life. One or two Gen 2s still patrolled, but she might as well have been invisible to them. The synth gorillas seemed to be deeply asleep. She walked quietly over to the terminal controlling the laser grid blocking Virgil’s old lab, and spent a good five minutes trying to hack in before the beep of confirmation finally sounded. Tough security. They  _ really _ didn’t want anyone to go in there. 

The lab had been left exactly as it was the day Virgil defected. In the center of the room, two deceased super mutants floated in vats of FEV. The third vat was broken, the liquid within long since evaporated. She couldn’t imagine being so desperate to escape she would be willing to transform herself into one of...those. In fact, she was so opposed to the idea she had shot off her own arm to avoid it. She walked around the lab, stepping over broken glass and scattered items, locating Virgil’s experimental serum first. She placed it carefully in her pack, then flipped through the logs on the lab terminal. What she found made her blood run cold. Details on the Institute’s involvement with FEV experimentation, starting from 2178 and on. Some definitely during years Shaun was Director. More investigation around the lab revealed a holotape with Brian Virgil’s last statement on it. Cringing inwardly, Edun popped it into her pip boy and pressed play.

_ “Personal record, Dr. Brian Virgil. This will likely be my last recording. My requests to shut down the FEV program have been repeatedly denied. We’ve learned nothing useful in the last 10 years; why does Father insist on continuing it? If he won’t see reason, then I have to take matters into my own hands. What we’re doing… it’s not right. It needs to stop. If anyone should find this after...After I’m gone...Know that I never wanted to hurt anyone. Anyone! Do you understand me? I’m going to make sure the whole program is shut down. If not for good, then at least for years to come. After that… I can’t say. _

_ I know what I’m about to do will be seen as a betrayal. Treason, he’ll probably call it. So… I’m leaving. I have a plan. If it works, I’ll be somewhere safe. Somewhere not even the Coursers can find me. Everything we’ve done, the lives we’ve taken… If there is a god, may he have mercy on us all.” _

She looked at all the pieces of evidence she had observed. The Institute had been kidnapping people and experimenting on them for years. They had turned them into super mutants or killed them trying, and had released the ones that survived the process onto the surface for long term observation. The mutants infesting the Commonwealth were there _because_ of the Institute. That also meant the super mutants who had attacked her that night...The  _ reason _ she had to blow off her own arm… was because of the Institute. Because of Shaun. He was no less guilty in this matter. Virgil had made that clear. For ten years, Shaun had insisted the program continue without any results. It had been unnecessary cruelty. When she first met Shaun, she asked him what they did with the people they swapped with synths on the surface. What was it he had said?  _ Why, they join us here, of course. Did you think we murdered them?  _ What a neat little dance step around the truth. He had not lied to her. Not technically. They  _ did _ join the people of the Institute. _As lab rats._

She wanted to break something. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, and she wanted more than anything to break every single fucking thing in this lab. She was a fucking  _ fool.  _ All he had to do was dangle a new arm in front of her, and she glossed over all the things so glaringly wrong about this place. He had been using her, all this time. Was any of it real? She ground her fists into the desk, the skin of her knuckles protesting at the abuse, and focused on her breathing. It would not do to lose her temper. Not now. She had to walk out of here with her poker face intact, or she was dead. She still needed to make contact with Patriot. She was pretty sure the FEV terminal would not be of any use. By now it had been cut off from the network as a security risk. She also needed to speak with Madison Li. 

She now knew what she had to do. Seeing the evidence of Shaun’s dirtied hands helped. She had been balancing on a wire, and it was not sustainable. She was furious with herself for being blind. Furious with herself for being duped. She had completely deluded herself into thinking all of this shit had meaning to it. As though Church’s death and Nora’s saving her from atomic annihilation had somehow been fate or divine intervention. Edun did punch something, then. She slammed the side of her fist into the wall, the impact bringing some small amount of satisfaction along with pain in her abused fist. 

Someone was waiting for her outside the old lab. As Edun closed the door behind her and crossed through the hallway once gridded with lasers, she heard a low chuckle. She froze, positive Shaun would melt out of the shadows, but instead it was Justin Ayo. He had two men flanking him, humans from the look of it. Coursers were powerful and physically perfect. Humans were more flawed. None more flawed than Ayo, with that ugly fucking face of his. He grinned at her, the low lighting flashing off of his teeth.

“And just what were you doing in there?” He demanded. “Delving into things you have no business with?”

“Shaun gave me full reign of the Institute,” Edun replied, folding her arms over her chest. “I wanted to poke around in the ruins. I don’t see why it’s your problem.”

“My problem?” Ayo echoed archly. “My problem is  _ you _ . I am in the middle of an intensive investigation, and you waltz into the Institute and disrupt everything. I do not understand Father’s obsession with you, but he isn’t here to protect you now. So here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to come with me and answer a few questions. Then we’re going to dig through that backpack of yours and see what you found on your little expedition. You see,  _ I _ think you have friends on the surface Father wouldn’t approve of. And after I draw their names and locations out of you, I’m going to send my Coursers to make some house calls.”

“Get fucked, Ayo,” she replied succinctly. This is what X6-88 had been trying to tell her. He knew Ayo was itching for an excuse to go after Edun, and now Ayo had caught her red-handed snooping around. Or was it green-handed? Super mutants were green...

Ayo’s two men began to encroach on Edun, and she fell into a fighter’s stance. She was pretty sure she could take these two overgrown nerds. They didn’t look like they’d lifted anything heavier than a pen in their time here, but looks could be deceiving and white lab coats didn’t guarantee someone was harmless. Ayo chuckled again, looking at her raised fists, and someone jammed a shock baton into the side of her neck. Edun crumpled, her knees folding immediately as the current passed through her body.  _ God damn it. There was a third goon, hiding behind a planter. She hadn’t even thought to look behind her.  _ Ayo’s clean white boots appeared in her vision, and she realized her cheek was pressed to the floor as someone locked cuffs around her wrists.

“Father won’t be happy about this, but when I produce results...he will forgive the transgression,” Ayo sneered. “I knew the moment I saw you that you were up to something, and now I will have my chance to prove it. Lift her up, come on, we need to move.” She considered yelling out, despite knowing only a handful of synths patrolled this area so late, but that thought was crushed when Ayo stuck a piece of duct tape over her mouth.  _ For fuck’s sake, why did villains always go for the duct tape? That shit hurt to pull off.  _

They dragged her down a series of lesser-known maintenance tunnels that led back to SRB. Ayo led the way to a small room and flicked on a light. Edun winced as the duct tape was ripped from her face, taking more than a few peach fuzz hairs with it. She peered around him as he strode into the cell. A heavy metal table stood in the center of the room, bolted to a concrete floor. There were manacles on either side of it for wrists, and more bolted to the concrete floor for feet. Edun eyed them, and knew if she got buckled into those she would not be leaving this room in one piece. She had heard enough horror stories of what was done to American POWs in China and watched her share of James Bond movies. Small rooms with soundproof walls and steel tables were  _ never _ good news. She resisted in the doorway, digging in her heels and pushing back on Ayo’s goons. One of them tried to give her a good shove from behind. She threw her head back with every ounce of strength she had and was met with the satisfying crunch of bone. Ayo’s goon howled, releasing her. Unfortunately she hadn’t gotten the one holding the stun baton, and another vicious jab with the weapon had her falling to the floor like a load of brick. She smacked into the concrete and felt the skin over her right brow tear open. Blood immediately gushed down into her eye.

“God damn it,” Ayo yelled. “What good is she to us if you scramble her brain? Get her in that chair or I’ll have you dumped on the surface.” She giggled. These people really saw being sent to the surface as a punishment. The knock to her head had made her woozy, and she struggled against the two goons with considerably less vigor as they dragged her across the room and fought to clap her into the manacles. They had managed to get them on her hands and were trying to evade her vicious kicks for the ankle manacles when a voice booming through the small room made everyone freeze.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” The words were cold, clipped, and menacing.

Everyone turned to look, and X6-88 stood in the doorway. He  _ filled  _ the doorway, shoulders back and chin up. His black leather coat shone in the harsh cold light, and his eyes were hidden by the black shades.

“This is SRB business,” Ayo snapped. “Leave us.”

“Father specifically told you to make our guest feel welcome,” X6-88 said. He turned to look at Edun. “Do you feel welcome right now, Edun?” She knew it. She fucking knew it. He wasn’t a complete robot. He was  _ toying _ with Ayo. 

“They don’t even have a hot towel service here,” Edun complained. “And the room service is terrible.”

X6-88 slowly turned his head back to Ayo. His voice was low and deadly. “Yes, Ayo. Please go get a hot towel for your  _ guest. _ ”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Ayo practically screamed, losing his composure. “Father said I could do whatever I needed to get results. I’m getting results! I just need a few hours, and I--”

“Father’s orders on the investigation are not the issue here,” X6-88 said patiently. “You are violating the one directive with absolutely no leeway. Do. Not. Touch. Her.” The last few words were concise, separated by abruptness of his tongue. Ayo blanched.

X6-88 strode into the room, and the goons jerked away from Edun as though she were on fire. He knelt down beside her and undid each of the manacles. Ayo watched sullenly, his eyes glittering with malice.

“You are injured,” X6-88 stated, using his index finger and thumb to lift her chin and examine the cut on her brow.

“I will be fine. It’s just a little cut.” 

“There’s no reason to report this to Father,” Ayo said weakly from his corner. His courage was leaving him, and the man looked somehow crumpled in on himself. Like a slept-in linen shirt. “It was just a misunderstanding. I saw her digging around in restricted access zones, and I--”

“Do not speak on the subject any further,” X6-88 silenced him, helping Edun to her feet. “I am Father’s eyes and ears. He will hear about this, and he will deal with you as he sees fit. If you approach Edun again, I have instructions to remove you from the Institute...permanently.” He guided Edun out of the room, one hand at the small of her back. As they left, she turned towards Ayo and stuck her tongue out at him. She laughed aloud at the rage and humiliation on his face.  _ Imagine a revolution led by Coursers,  _ she thought _. These people are utterly terrified of their own creations...and not without good reason.  _

X6-88 didn’t utter another word until they were clear of the SRB. He ushered her back towards her room, and at the base of the stairs finally spoke.

“Did you not hear my warning earlier today?”

“Okay, first of all, I can walk in a straight line just fine,” Edun said, shooing his hand from her back. “Second of all, it’s not like I  _ planned  _ for them to ambush me. I didn’t think anyone had seen me go into BioScience. They jumped me.” She blinked rapidly, struggling to see through her right eye.

“We should attend to your injury,” the Courser said, noticing as he continued up the stairs beside her. “I will rouse Dr Volkert.” 

“No, please don’t do that,” Edun’s voice was sharper than she had intended for it to be.

“You do not like Dr Volkert?” X6-88 queried.

“He creeps me out. He uses synths like lab rats.”

“That is their purpose.” There was genuine puzzlement in X6-88’s tone.

“Would you want someone testing dangerous or painful compounds out on you, so regular humans didn’t have to experience it themselves?”

“I am a Courser. They do not experiment in such ways on us.”

Edun rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I asked.”

“If that is what my service to the Institute required, then I would accept it,” X6-88 said at last. Edun made a derisive snort and continued the climb, wishing her room wasn’t so damn high up. Her head was throbbing. She expected X6-88 to leave her at her door, but was surprised when he followed her into her room.

“I’m not really looking for a cuddle buddy right now,” she declined. The Courser did not budge.

“I will attend to your head injury.”

“You’re a hairstylist  _ and  _ a doctor? Fascinating skillset you have there.”

“All Coursers have thorough medical knowledge,” X6-88 informed her, walking into the bathroom and returning with the medical kit. “Your injury will require stitches before I can inject a stim.”

“I’ve had worse. Look at me,” she teased, gesturing at her scarred face. X6-88 pulled up a chair and settled into it, long legs angled to either side of her. He ignored her hiss of pain as he sterilized the contusion with isopropyl alcohol.

“Why didn’t you have your face repaired?” He asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice, setting the bloody towelette down. “Father said there is no reason for you to bear such damage.”

“Oh did he,” Edun winced as his fingers probed the back of her head and found blood there as well. She had hit that goon  _ hard.  _ “What else did he say?”

“He said you could be a beautiful woman, if you would only let go of the past. He said it was a _shame_.” The words stung her, and anger kindled in her chest.  _ What right did he have to say such a thing?  _

“I don’t need to be beautiful. That’s a valueless commodity. It’s certainly not a requirement for being a Minuteman. They accepted my ugly ass without blinking.”

X6-88 expertly threaded the dermal needle. “Your scars do not make you ugly. Hold still, this may hurt for a moment.” She unwittingly flinched as he injected the numbing agent.

“That’s a funny way of telling me I’m cute.” She couldn’t resist the jab.

“You are not... _ cute _ , either. That is a word for children. You are...beyond the terms humans seem so fond of as descriptors. You are a formidable warrior. You are highly intelligent. You command the loyalty of many. These are no small things.” 

She told herself the watery eyes were due to the needle puncturing her skin, even though all she felt was the pressure of it. “Thanks. That’s...nice to hear.”

“Do you trust that your safety is a primary concern of mine?” He asked as the needle dipped in and out, pulling the torn skin together again.

“So far the track record is pretty great,” she admitted. “Why?”

He pulled away from her, ending the sutures with a snip of little shears. “You should leave this place, Edun. You should leave, and never come back.” His tone had the same casual coldness it always did, but there was...more to it now. Edun cocked her head at him. She reached up and lifted the dark glasses from his face. He did not stop her.

His eyes were dark; the irises nearly pitch black. They were fathomless. He met her gaze unflinchingly, and she saw only sincerity there. He was concerned for her. He knew something, and it worried him enough that he saw fit to warn her. Likely against the wishes of the one man he was beholden to. What the hell was going on?  _ Something rotten this way comes,  _ she thought.

  
  


After she had been patched up, X6-88 took his leave of her. He did not repeat his warning. It wasn’t necessary. His words rang through her head like the bells of Notre Dame. Edun showered, if for no other reason that to get Goon Blood out of her hair. She had a lot to think about, but she could not simply leave the Institute and never come back. She needed to see Madison Li, and then she needed to make contact with Patriot. She had promises to keep. Promises she had made to help protect people who needed it desperately. She would have to investigate further.

She could not sleep a wink that night. The day’s discoveries, Ayo’s blatant attack on her, and X6-88’s warning left her lying awake, staring at the ceiling, dread coiling in her gut like a cold and slithering viper.


	41. Light the Bridge On Fire With Extra Kerosene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit starts to get real bananas from hereon out. I hope you like fruit. Enjoy the ride.

If X6-88 had a problem with being Shaun’s personal errand boy, he did not voice it. He was at Edun’s door the next morning promptly at 8AM to fetch her for breakfast. Edun was, as usual, not ready. On top of being exhausted after a long night of tossing and turning, she was not hungry and not in the mood to put on a mask for Shaun. She wanted to scream at him, claw at him, demand answers for the horrors inflicted upon innocent people in that FEV lab. Horrors that had continued unchecked for  _ decades _ until Brian Virgil found the courage to destroy everything and run. And even after, the Institute had chased him - determined to retrieve their lost asset. As though he were a  _ suitcase _ that had fallen from a bus. Except you can’t murder a suitcase.

She was backed into a corner. She was going to have to keep her Nice Face on for a little while longer. She could manage it. It wasn’t any different than keeping your cool in a fight, or receiving a medal from some cowardly piece of shit senator who had voted against expanding the VA budget for mental healthcare. She hadn’t kneed that fucker in the balls on national TV, and she wouldn’t knee Shaun in the balls now. Well, probably not. Maybe. She dressed, raked her hands through her wild hair, and stepped into the hall to follow X6-88. He did not speak to her on the walk to the Director’s quarters. Perhaps her presence here was causing him distress. She didn’t dare ask. For all she knew, his words from the night before had been a one-time offer that she had subsequently fucked up. He left her at the door, and she couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or not before he strode away.

The door to Shaun’s door was open, and music floated out. It sounded like… La Campanella by Franz Liszt. Fascinated, Edun wantered in. Shaun was standing by a record player in pristine condition, watching the vinyl record rotate in place. He looked up when Edun walked through the door and gave her a brilliant smile.

“Do you like the classics, Edun?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty nice. I used to go to the symphony with my mother whenever I could. Though she was a major Bach fangirl.” 

“Ah, yes, dear Johann. You know, the classical station for our carrier wave was  _ my _ idea. I like to think of it as though a little piece of me is bringing my people and creations home each time.” 

She gave him an easy smile. “That’s a beautiful sentiment.”

“I have quite the collection. You are welcome to listen to them anytime,” he told her, moving to the dining table. “Please, sit,” he gestured. The table was set again, and as Edun took her chair, Shaun removed the lid from a dish before her.

“Are those...scrambled eggs?” She was well and truly stunned.

“Yes! Well, as close to them as we can get. In the earlier years we had a large storage of food, including powdered egg. It was relatively easy to synthesize it before the stores ran low. But here, there is also this.” Another dish revealed golden toast. Edun felt a little like a king enjoying fine dining while the peasants ate gruel, but toast and eggs was toast and eggs. She wasn’t going to pass up on what was very likely her last meal here. She dove in, and Shaun watched her somewhat raptly, hands joined beneath his chin.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Edun asked after a moment, her mouth full of egg.

“Of course,” he broke from his reverie and began to scoop himself some eggs. “I confess I called you here for more than our usual comfortable chatter, Edun.”

Could he sense the tightening of her spine? She hoped not. “Please tell me it’s about raspberry jam that you somehow created down here.”

He chuckled. “No. Unfortunately it is a much more serious matter. Tell me, Edun...What would you do if something valuable had been stolen from you?”

She set her toast down, brain screaming. “Well,” she began, wiping at her mouth with a napkin, “I would think the last few months of me crawling over the Wasteland looking for you would answer that question.” 

“Yes, of course.” His eyes softened at that. “You did not give up, no matter what was thrown at you. So must I. I am afraid I must ask you for your help, one more time.” He rested his forearms against the table, steepling his fingers. “Someone has possession of  _ six  _ Institute synths, and we have learned the location where they are being held. I need you to accompany one of our Coursers and assist in retrieving our errant property.”

_ Six sentient beings trying to escape your yoke, you mean,  _ she thought. But her mouth said, “I’m flattered at your confidence in me, but...I’m not sure your Courser would even need my help. X6-88 sure hasn’t on the couple outings we’ve gone on. Wouldn’t I be in the way?”

“Not at all,” Shaun assured her. “I am hoping your presence may...assuage any conflict, should our Courser run into trouble.” 

If she protested too hard, he would become suspicious of her motives here. If she agreed, she would be condemning six people to being captured and having their brains wiped as though they were no more significant than dry erase boards. This request of his was a test, she knew. He wanted to see where her loyalties really lay. This was...not something she could go along with. It might mean burning the bridge, but damn it, if she was going to burn the bridge she would do it with extra kerosene.

“Of course. This isn’t time sensitive, is it? I wanted to chat with Madison Li about a modification to my pip boy, and then maybe take a shower. I slept in today, oops.” She offered a disarming lopsided smile, and Shaun’s eyes gleamed a little too brightly at her.

“They have been there for over a week now, afraid to move position. I think there is time for your errands. When you are ready, head to Bunker Hill. Your Courser escort will be waiting for you among the buildings surrounding the trade hub.” 

“But first, breakfast,” she said with a wink, diving back into her eggs. They tasted like sawdust now, the toast was cardboard. The panicked part of her was terrified she would choke on her breakfast.

Shaun laughed, shook his head, and resumed eating as well. He discussed the finer points of Johannes Brahms while they ate, and Edun made sure to tilt her head, nod, and laugh at the right moments. So far, so good. She had just had breakfast with the devil and didn’t so much as twitch an eye. Next, she needed to have a long chat with Madison Li and then get the hell out of here. She didn’t know how forthcoming she could be with the woman, but she hoped Madison was slightly less morally bankrupt than her boss.

She forced herself to walk towards Advanced Systems with as much calm as she could manage. Loud whispering nearby, the sort of stage whisper reserved for arguments, caught her attention close to the entrance to Robotics. Edun slipped up against a wall, crouching by a planter and pretending to fix the lacing on her boot. She looked around quickly, and seeing most everyone was either still dining or busy with tasks, activated her stealth device before creeping closer. Well, she  _ had _ come here to snoop. Time to snoop. She could make out the voices, now. Alan Binet was speaking. She caught the end of what he was saying.

“...We have most of what we need. The memories and mannerisms are still a work in progress, but that’s not my area of concern. I just don’t understand  _ why _ . It doesn’t feel right. I understand he’s the Director, but...You can’t tell me this isn’t  _ entirely _ for personal reasons. Whatever his excuses are, you and I have both seen the way he paces up there on his balcony. He’s obsessed.”

“I  _ told _ you there would be trouble,” the second voice said. She recognized it. Max Loken, Alan’s colleague in Robotics. “And now look. Trouble. And lots of it. Every time we’ve done a copy prior to this, there has been a solid reason for it... A scientific basis or actual experiments requiring one. This...I don’t understand, either. You need to go up there and demand answers from him. This is a waste of our time and resources.”

“You know I can’t do that. He doesn’t like being questioned,” Alan protested. The voices were moving away, and Edun heard the entrance to Robotics open and close behind them. She moved away, stepping back into a hallway and switching off her stealth field. What in the fresh hell was going on? What did they mean, a _copy?_ It sounded like they were planning on replacing someone, and she didn’t want to dwell on _who._ If she did, she might throw up. Fuck this, fuck the whole Madison Li angle, she needed to get out of here. She wasn’t about to wait and see if the Institute planned to disappear her. Just then, a hand touched her arm, and Edun whirled around to meet the eyes of none other than Madison Li. The doctor held a finger to her lips, and Edun nodded, understanding. She followed the woman to an alcove beneath some stairs.

“Why are you sneaking around the atrium in stealth mode?” The woman demanded, more curious than confrontational..

“Why are you following me around while I’m  _ sneaking _ around in stealth mode, would be a better question,” Edun flashed back. “But for your information, I was looking for you.”

“In the bushes outside of Robotics? You know all my regular haunts, apparently.” Madison’s voice was dry, amused. “ _ Why _ are you looking for me?”

“I have...matters to go attend to, but I wanted to speak with you first before I left.”

“About what?” Madison folded her arms and waited.

Edun poked her head out from under the stairwell and looked around, ensuring nobody was nearby. “Look, I have been...helping the Brotherhood of Steel on and off. I’m not one of them, but I help them where I can. Elder Maxson asked me to seek you out and propose you return to them. He said he has a project he needs your help with.”

Madison stared at Edun for a long moment. “Is that why you came here? To find me?”

“No. They didn’t ask me about you until after I’d already found a way in.  _ I  _ came here to find Shaun. The rest is just happenstance.” 

Madison shook her head. “You should not be here. This is not a good place for you.”

“What the hell is going on?” Edun hissed. “You’re the second person to say something cryptic like that to me. Not to mention I just overheard a conversation about…  _ I think _ ...Making a copy of  _ me. _ ”

Madison frowned at that. “There is much going on, and none of it is good.”

“What do you know?” Edun demanded. Madison only shook her head.

“This is not the time or the place for that. Someone could be listening in at any moment. Now, as for your request... It so happens I have reached a point in my... _ career  _ here that I wish to part ways with the Institute. As you know, defecting is no easy feat. Fortunately, I am considerably smarter and more resourceful than poor Brian Virgil. I will need a day or two to get my things in order, and then I will seek out the Brotherhood. You may tell them to expect me.”

“Wait,” Edun said, stopping Madison with a hand on the arm. “Please, at least tell me...Am I in danger?” 

Madison gave Edun a calm, level gaze. “Not yet. But you will be if you stay.”

Edun watched the woman go, feeling more like a rat in a maze than she ever had in her entire life. This was what X6-88 had been warning her about. She only wished she knew the who the fuck, the why the fuck, and the how the fuck. Desdemona would be so disappointed in her for not making contact with Patriot, though Edun knew she was also the kind of woman who would not expect anyone to risk life and limb against their will. Right now, Edun was pretty sure she was risking  _ everything _ . She needed to speak with Desdemona about Bunker Hill,  _ immediately.  _ She pulled up her pip boy, dialed into the teleporter sequence, and let the blue light erase the Institute from around her.

-

Not daring to go directly to the Railroad and potentially put them in danger, Edun teleported to Goodneighbor. Specifically, what passed for Hancock’s living room. It was the first time she had heard the ghoul scream, or seem at all unsettled, and it was somehow gratifying. He had been flipping through documents when she appeared on top of his coffee table. Papers went flying everywhere as he threw them, and his guttural cry brought five of his guards running from various corners of the old State house, guns at the ready. They burst into the room and leveled their barrels at Edun. Recognizing her, they looked at each other and then to Hancock in confusion.

“ _ Holy shit _ , Edun, I thought all the chems would kill me, but I think they’ve got competition,” the mayor wheezed, clutching his chest for dramatic effect.

“I need your help,” Edun blurted. The look on her face shut Hancock up immediately, and he waved his guards out before shutting the door behind them. He turned back to her, squeezing her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay, take it easy. Tell me what’s happening?”

“I need you to take me to the Railroad again.” 

“Don’t you know the way with your, uh, gizmo there?” He gestured at her pip boy.

“That’s part of the problem. I need to leave it here. I can’t be sure, but I think the Institute is using it to track me somehow. I need a disguise, and I need you to take me down all those little-known back alleys like you did before.”

“Hey, if a dame asks Hancock to take all her clothes and lead her down a dark alley, Hancock always says yes,” the ghoul proclaimed impishly. 

“At any other time, I’d make you eat those words along with your testicles. But today is not the day. Can you help me?” Despite herself, she was smiling.

Hancock chuckled. “Follow me to le wardrobe,” he said with a flourish. “I’ll have you lookin’ like a mangy Commonwealth trader in no time.” 

Ten minutes later, hair pulled under a ratty hat and clad in oversized road leathers, Edun emerged from Hancock’s bedroom. He gave her a wolf whistle, and then they were off. At her concern over the valuable pip boy being fiddled with (her word to gloss over the more likely  _ stolen),  _ Hancock locked it up in his wall safe. If anyone was keeping an eye on her, as she suspected they were, they would think she was pausing in Goodneighbor for a supply run. Hancock stopped at the city’s gate, bending down and messing with something in the dirt.

“Hancock, what the hell are you doing?” Edun asked, puzzled. The ghoul rose from his crouch and walked over to Edun, smearing his filthy hands over her face inelegantly.

“Hides the scars,” he said with a wink. “Just in case.”

Then he turned and was out the gate at a slow run, with Edun close behind him. The brisk pace and Hancock’s shortcuts helped immensely, and before long they were standing in front of the old church, huffing and puffing. Without her pip boy, the catacombs were incredibly dark. Hancock produced a small, dim flashlight and it sufficed to light their way. Edun was suddenly grateful for the fact she had killed all the feral ghouls inhabiting this place. If she hadn’t, wandering through here with a glorified pen light would be absolutely terrifying. Soon she was rushing through the entrance to Railroad HQ, and bumped right into Deacon at the bottom of the stairs.

“Woah, hey, man. Yield to oncoming traffic,” he chuckled. Then he took a good look at her and said, “Ah, shit.”

“Ah, shit, is right,” Edun said. “Where’s Des?”

“Over here,” Desdemona answered from where she stood beside Tom, going over a project. She strode over to where Edun and Hancock were standing. “Any word from Patriot?”

“That’s… going to have to wait,” Edun explained. “The Institute knows about the synths at Bunker Hill. They want to send me and one of their Coursers to… retrieve them.”

“Damn it,” Desdemona swore. “I knew they’d been there too long. We haven’t had the resources to get them moved, and every day they were stuck there was an increased risk.”

“We’ve got to get them out. We can’t just...let the Institute take them back.”

“I know, and I won’t let that happen,” Desdemona agreed. “But an Institute Courser is going to complicate things.”

“I can handle the Courser,” Edun assured her. “I’ll pop him when his back is turned. But it’s likely the Institute will turn out in force on this one. They’ve been very stirred up about all the recent escapes. You’re going to have one hell of a fight on your hands.”

“We don’t have a choice. In addition to those six synths, we have contacts at Bunker Hill who need our protection. Not to mention any innocents caught in the crossfire.”

“What if...The Brotherhood showed up, too?” Edun suggested.

“Why would we want that?” Desdemona looked at Edun as if she were completely nuts. “So they can murder the synths right after we rescue them?”

“Listen, they don’t have to know the synths are there. What if I told them… I’d heard the Institute wanted to kidnap someone from Bunker Hill? That would be enough to get their hackles up. Then we can all enjoy the benefit of their firepower, and nobody gets hurt. It’s not like they can tell synths apart from humans, any better than the rest of the Commonwealth can. The synths should be able to flee to safety under the guise of being Bunker Hill residents running in terror.”

Desdemona mulled it over. “And what about my people? I don’t know if I believe the Brotherhood won’t mow them down simply for being sympathizers.”

“How are they supposed to know who you are, unless you paint RAILROAD across your foreheads?” Edun asked. “It’s going to be pure chaos. Civilians and traders running around. Institute invading. It’s hardly uncommon for wastelanders to protect what’s theirs. As far as the Brotherhood knows, you’re just part of Bunker Hill or visiting traders.”

“For the record,” Deacon piped in, “I suggested matching face tattoos a long time ago. Des was the one who shot it down.”

“Deacon,” Desdemona snapped. He grinned unrepentantly. “Okay,” Desdemona sighed. “We’ll do it your way. However, if any of those tin soldiers open fire on my people, I am placing the blame solely on you.” 

“I accept that,” Edun said. “But I honestly believe this is the best way we all get out alive. Now, I’ve got to hightail it back to Goodneighbor before heading over to Bunker Hill. I think I can make it in a couple hours. The Institute won’t move until I show up, so...you’ve got time to scramble.”

Desdemona gave a curt nod. “We can do it. We’ve worked with shorter timelines than this. We will set up and watch for you to appear with the Courser. That’s when we will strike.”

Edun turned to Deacon. “Show me that other exit? I’m not running through those dark tunnels again. I always get lost in here.”

Deacon obliged, and as soon as she and Hancock were on the road again, Edun dialed into AF95 with her shoulder radio.

“Danse. Haylen. Do any of you copy?”

_ “Identify yourself, citizen.” _

“It’s Edun. Jeez. Don’t you recognize my beautiful falsetto by now?”

A long sigh.  _ “Edun, it’s Rhys. What now?” _

“I need backup. I have intel on a potential abduction. The Institute has eyes on someone in Bunker Hill, and they are going to make their move soon.”

_ “We’re listening.” _


	42. Be Seeing You, Champ

“I’d offer to go with you, but...I don’t think your friends would take kindly to you bringin’ company,” Hancock said morosely as he handed her back her pip boy. “Be careful. Make it back here in one piece.”

Edun arched an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s got to put a dent in Charlie’s whiskey stores. I’d never leave you to that task alone.”

She gave the mayor a hug, and strode out of Goodneighbor. She had hollow points loaded into the .44 Magnum at her hip, a long combat knife in her boot, and a shotgun. She wasn’t sure which one she was going to use to obliterate the Courser, but she’d figure it out when she got there. As she jogged through the streets towards Bunker Hill, she found herself desperately hoping her Courser escort wasn’t going to be X6-88. As Shaun’s favorite, there was a good chance he might be. She wasn’t sure if she could pull the trigger on him. Which was worse? Murdering a sentient being who had exhibited signs of waking humanity, or committing six people to loss of individuality and slavery? She radioed Preston. She needed to update him. If anything happened to her, he should know the circumstances. He wasn’t happy, but understood and told her to be careful. The conversation was tense, but ended with the three words she needed to hear most.

She slowed when she reached the abandoned houses surrounding Bunker Hill. Her escort was supposed to be around here somewhere. She was wandering down one of the many alleys when the Courser decloaked in front of her, making her jump out of her skin. Her next reaction was one of relief. She did not recognize him. Today, at least, she would not have to face X6-88 and the inevitable difficult decision. Either way, she lost him today. Shaun was  _ not  _ going to be happy with her actions here.

“I have been waiting for you,” the Courser said with disapproval. “I assume you’ve been briefed?”

“Yep,” Edun replied. “I get it. Go in, find the synths, drag them home.”

“Unfortunately the situation has grown more complex. We have reports of the Brotherhood closing in on this area. Institute troops can deal with them. We are to go in clean and quiet, allowing for no distractions. I see you have a stealth device. Good. Use it.” 

_ Bossy little fucker, ain’t he,  _ Edun thought as she nodded the affirmative and switched her device on. That might complicate things when it came time to tussle with him. She followed his lead, squinting at the shimmer in the air before her. She hoped the Railroad had seen her before going into stealth. Her answer came shortly after, as flashes of blue light ahead were met with gunfire. The Railroad was here, and they were opening fire on the Gen 1 and 2 synths appearing throughout Bunker Hill. Vertibirds were drawing near as well. The cavalry was here. She just hoped she didn’t end up in the crossfire. 

The Courser led her to a trap door in a corner of the market, and she followed close behind. She had no idea there was such a vast underground to Bunker Hill. More gunfire down here, Railroad members battling Institute synths in the confines of the structure. Edun kept her head low, darting around moving bodies or ducking to avoid the firefight.They passed through undetected; if not invisible due to their stealth devices, then by the distraction of the combat all around them. At the top of a long flight of stairs, her escort switched off his device. Apparently he wanted the synths to see him before he shut them all down. Edun switched hers off as well, and while the Courser’s back was to her she palmed the long knife from her boot. It was her best bet down here. The synth’s combat helmet and body armor didn’t leave her much to work with, and she only had one chance at this.

“This is it,” the Courser said over his shoulder. “The missing property should be in the room at the bottom of these stairs. They are like children, no combat abilities to speak of. You should be safe, though if one attempts to attack, you may disable it.”

She hated the way he spoke about them, even knowing the words came from elsewhere. From humans with no value for the very things they had imbued in their creations. She was coiled and ready, and when he stopped in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, she steeled herself. Beyond him, a group of men and women huddled together in terror. They regarded the Courser with wide, frightened eyes. One of the synths burst into tears, and the way another held her tightly in support made Edun furious. 

“Recall code--” the Courser began, but his words were cut short as Edun jerked his head back and plunged the blade of her knife into his throat, just below the Adam's apple. She wrenched it around all the way to the side. The movement was vicious and effective, and she fought down the bile in her throat as he fell to the floor, one hand grasping at the gaping wound in his neck and his eyes staring at her. The crying synth let out a startled scream, and the group moved away from her like frightened deer facing a wolf.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Edun promised, wiping the blade off on her pant leg before sheathing the knife again. She then spread her hands wide, showing the group she was no threat. “I’m here to get you out of here.” 

“You’re not...with him?” One of the synths, a young man asked, pointing at the Courser bleeding out on the floor.

“No. Decidedly not. Now, listen to me. Help is here. I need to go back up the stairs and make sure it’s safe to move you. Stay here, stay quiet, and use this if you need to.” She kicked the Courser’s laser pistol towards the group, who stared at the item with mingled horror and confusion. She frowned. “Do any of you know how to use a gun?”

One of the women stepped forward. “I...think I can manage. I just hold it and pull the trigger, right?”

“Exactly right. Look through the scope, line up the crosshairs over whatever you want dead, and pull the trigger. Easy peasy. Now, stay here. I’ll be back.” 

Edun turned and ran back up the stairs two at a time, unslinging her shotgun as she went. Several Brotherhood knights had joined in the fray, and to her relief they seemed to only be targeting the synths. To them, the members of the Railroad looked like regular civilians. For once, the Railroad’s elusive ways had really paid off. She joined in the fight, firing on Institute synths. If anyone noticed no fire came Edun’s way, they were too embroiled in the chaos to make sense of it. The blue-white flashes of teleporting Institute troops began to slow, and eventually there was nothing but the haggard breathing of injured people and the stomping of power armor as soldiers made their rounds, finishing off any synths that still moved. Edun raced back down the stairs, where the group huddled anxiously.

“Let’s go,” she told them. “Keep up with me.”

They followed her back up the stairs and through the smoke-filled basement of Bunker Hill. One of the soldiers recognized Edun, and looked at her questioningly.

“Civilians,” she said with disgust as they hurried past. “None of them had weapons, got pinned down. Can you believe that?” The soldier gave her a derisive grunt and a shake of his head before turning back to his task. 

Edun crawled back up through the hatch first. Aboveground, the battle had gone well. The ground was littered with synth remains, and Edun did not see any human casualties yet. It helped that Gen 1 and 2s were relatively stupid. She waved her charges up one by one, standing guard as they climbed out of the basement. Several Railroaders disguised as caravan guards approached, calling out made-up names in greeting, and escorted their ‘clients’ away. All in all, the operation had been a success. The Institute had withdrawn to lick its wounds after a crushing defeat, the Courser was dead, and the six synths had been rescued. She had the feeling that any moment now a Courser was going to appear and put a bullet in her, but if that is how the cookie crumbled...fine. She might have lost herself for a little while, but she had found her footing again. She knew who she was, she knew what she stood for, and over her dead body would she sit idly by while the Institute acted without impunity.

She weighed her options. She needed to swing by Diamond City and retrieve Dogmeat, who was by now either very fat or very angry with her. Then she would go see Sturges about pulling the chip - and whatever else the Institute had put in there - out of her pip boy. She jogged out of Bunker Hill, noticing the Brotherhood dragging several deactivated synths into a vertibird. They would be pleased with today. In their eyes, they had struck a major blow to the Institute. They would harvest the weapons and drag away a few samples from this place, before cleaning the rest up. They wouldn’t allow one single Institute rifle to end up in civilian hands, you could bet on that. Someone stepped out in front of her path from between two houses, and Edun froze in her tracks. X6-88 stood before her, though his arms hung at his sides calmly.

“Father wishes to speak with you.” His voice was cool, unreadable. 

“I can’t go back there, X6. I can’t go back to the Institute.”

X6-88 shook his head. “Not there. He is waiting for you, atop the CIT ruins.”

“He left the  _ Institute _ ?” She asked somewhat incredulously. She didn’t think he ever would. “Gotcha. Right. I’ll, ah, head there now.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to, but she wasn’t sure it was optional, either. She continued walking, but as she passed X6-88 he caught her gently by the wrist.

“I know what you did here today,” he said softly, though his voice was without any menace. “Whatever happens... I will miss your company.”

She turned her head to look at him, and saw he had removed his glasses. She met his eyes, deep and dark like the bottom of the ocean. “I’ll miss yours, too,” she replied just as softly. It felt like goodbye. He released her, then, stepping away and disappearing in a column of light. She stood alone on the street, feeling as though everything inside her was being twisted in a different direction. The walk to CIT was quiet. Anything lurking in the area had likely been driven off by all the vertibirds. She was alone again. She supposed if Shaun planned to have her killed it was better this way. She wouldn’t have to worry about Dogmeat being scared and wandering, or any companion with her being caught in the crossfire as well. It was just her versus the path she had chosen. She fiddled with her radio.

“Preston?”

_ “Sweetheart. Hi.” _

“Bunker Hill was a success. We got the synths out.”

He sensed something in her.  _ “That's good news. Really good news. So why do you sound like it’s bad news?” _

“I feel a little like I’m walking into a trap. Or worse. Shaun wants to…  _ talk. _ ”

_ “You don’t have to go. Don't go. You don’t owe those people a damn thing.” _

“I need to. It’s time to confront him about everything. It’s time he knows where I stand.”

His tone was worried.  _ “I hate this. I really do. Just… Be careful. If he makes one wrong move, you shoot him, Edun. Arm or no arm, just remember...you don’t owe him.” _

“I know. I won’t. Dogmeat is with Nick and RJ, so, if shit goes south...make sure you retrieve my sweetiepie.” 

_ “You’ll retrieve him yourself,”  _ Preston answered confidently. _ “So there’s no need to go worrying about that.” _

“I love you.” The words burned her throat like too-hot coffee.

_ “And I love you.”  _ Cool water, running over and soothing the burns.

  
  


The shattered buildings of the old CIT campus towered before her, and Edun let herself into the biggest of them. The one that was directly over the heart of the Institute. She knew where to go. Gen 2 Synths patrolled the old building, but made no move to block her or interfere. She walked past them, body tense and her .44 Magnum in hand just in case. The place had been overrun with super mutants, but the patrol of synths seemed to have rather efficiently rectified that. She stepped over the enormous green bodies littering the stairs and halls, until at last she reached the door for rooftop access. She turned the knob, braced herself, and stepped out onto the roof.

She could see him in the distance, his white coat all but glowing against the fading light and filthy surroundings of the Commonwealth. He did not turn as she approached him, hammer back on her revolver and her body wound tightly. She stopped about six feet away from him, wanting some distance between them until she could gauge the situation. She waited, and he was silent for a long moment, staring down at the Commonwealth around them. When he at last spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“I never thought I would come up to the surface, but...here I am. You spoke so highly of it, I suppose… I expected more.”

“Not exactly the best way to experience it,” Edun replied. “Whether looking up from below, or looking down from above… The perspective you gain is skewed.” She wasn’t speaking literally, and they both knew it. His hands balled into fists.

“I would have given you everything,” he whispered, his voice tight with pain. “But you have spit in my face time and again. You will always be drawn back to this place, over and over, no matter what I offer you. I thought perhaps having your arm repaired might show you the possibilities of a life within the Institute. A life with… me. But I see my olive branch has only been met with mistrust and ingratitude. You are not above the filth of the Commonwealth. You are not a woman set apart, as I am a man set apart. No. you are… one of  _ them. _ ” 

Realization - a trail of ice creeping up her spine - began to slowly dawn on Edun, and she had to clench her jaw to fight the rising nausea. What she had thought was a developing kinship had been something entirely different in his eyes. Something much sicker, and twisted. 

“I think I understand now,” her throat fought the words and getting them out was almost painful. “You wanted…  _ me _ .”

He closed his eyes. “All my life, I was kept separate. I wasn’t allowed to bond with other children. I wasn’t permitted to attend regular classes, or to develop friendships. I never took lovers. From the  _ moment _ they brought me back to the Institute, I was groomed for greater things. My world was an echo chamber, in which I screamed my deepest yearnings and heard only myself answering. Do you know what it is like to live an  _ entire life _ without being touched, other than to give more DNA samples or undergo more tests, or when attending your regular physicals? To be the most important person alive, and at the same time the most powerless?” He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. “When I thought you were my mother, in the beginning... I thought...perhaps at last I would step out of that echo chamber, and have someone who wanted me for reasons that were pure and untarnished. Imagine my surprise when you were not my mother, but no less brimming with potential.”

“I didn’t come to the Institute to serve as your fuck puppet,” Edun growled. “I came because I owed your father and your mother a debt. I wanted to set things right.”

He let out a harsh laugh, turning eyes blazing with anger to her. “What a fine mess you've made of  _ that _ . I extended nothing but kindness and courtesy to you, and you have repaid me by biting the hand that feeds.”

“You have committed heinous acts against the people of the Commonwealth. You have kidnapped and replaced people… and do not think for  _ one second _ I believe the originals were integrated into your population. I know the truth. Your people brought FEV to the Commonwealth, and  _ you _ approved the continued use of it. You have created synths in your own image, capable of unimaginable wonders, complete with the ability to experience a full array of emotions... and you have them  _ mopping floors _ . How could you possibly think I would learn all about your little organization and be okay with the things you have done?”

He turned away from her at that, a sad little smile on his lips. “I saw in time that it could not last, of course. You were so... _ self righteous _ . So hopeful and optimistic about the future of this destroyed world full of ragtag people. They are not worth the mud on the bottom of your boots, Edun, and yet you are drawn to them. You  _ idolize _ them for their courage to carry on and survive, when in fact they are only stupid animals who refuse to die as they should.”

“Your father and mother would be  _ so _ disappointed in you,” Edun’s voice cracked, breaking into pieces over the words. “It’s a small blessing they did not live to see what you became.”

Fury passed briefly over his features, then an expression of grief took its place. Edun saw pain in his eyes - a terrible sort of pain; one that often drove lesser men mad. As it had driven him mad.

“I am dying, you know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Cancer. I don’t have long. Maybe half a year. I wanted so little from you, and I would have given you the world in exchange for it.”

“I cannot give you something that is already given,” she said steadily. “And even if I could… you would not be a man worthy of it.”

Something closed behind his eyes at that, the sadness and the anger locked away behind an iron door. When he spoke again, his voice was cold.

“Stay out of our way. I will give you one warning, and only one. If you interfere with our business again, I will order your death without a moment’s hesitation.”

He teleported away as the words left Edun’s lips.

“Be seeing you, champ.”


	43. Two Days or Two Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fluffy break from all the darkness. I do try to be a merciful overlord. :P

She could have stopped somewhere dry a dozen times throughout the storm, but she was beyond caring. The rains were growing more and more frequent as autumn took hold. In a few months, it would be snow sleeting against them. RJ protested the abuse, but when he realized his whining was falling on deaf ears, he grimly pulled his collar higher, adjusted his hat, tucked his chin, and followed her anyway. He might have become rather spoiled by all the women in his life doting on him, but when push came to shove he was still one tough little merc. Dogmeat was entirely unfazed by the relentless storm, and happily trotted beside her as they slogged their way straight to Sanctuary from Diamond City. Sometimes they ran into things. A pack of feral dogs hiding under a rocky overhang. A band of raiders sleeping in the tents of the group they had just murdered. A furious yao guai, which RJ blessedly dispatched before Edun had a chance to throw up.

It was late the following evening when they arrived at the main gate. Edun put a hand on RJ’s arm before he could stray off in the direction of his home.

“I’m sorry,” she said. He had the bedraggled look of a wet chicken, his ears pink from the chill. He only furrowed his brow at her.

“What did we say about apologizing?”

“I know. I just love you, kid. Go get warmed up.” She gave him a gentle slug to the arm and strode away, leaving him standing there with a little smile on his face.

Preston didn’t say a word when she barged into his house, shivering and soaked to the bone. First, he drew her into a hug. His warm body against her frozen cheek and his arms wrapped tightly around her felt _so good._ Then he kissed her soundly, until her body responded and circulation worked its way to her toes and fingertips again. He broke it off after a moment, taking her by the hand and gently pulling her behind him to the bathroom. She watched through the tangle of her hair as he turned the faucets on and hot water streamed from the spout into the old porcelain tub. He turned back to her and began to slowly peel her soaked gear from her shivering body. First her Minutemen duster, so wet with rain it fell heavily around her feet the moment she was free from it. Then her combat vest, his hands expertly undoing the buckles. There was something intimate about the process, and desire heated in her as he unbuttoned the flannel shirt she wore beneath the vest. He saw the change in her eyes and shook his head, smiling.

“Not yet. First, we get you warm.”

She steadied herself with hands on his shoulders while he helped her out of the jeans plastered to her cold skin and the now-unlaced combat boots. Her feet were soaked, toes an angry red. Those would sting like a motherfucker when she stepped into the water, she knew. At last she was undressed, and he offered a helping hand as she stepped into the tub with a hiss and then lowered herself into the skin-melting heat. Just like she liked it. Preston ducked out, and when he returned he held a ceramic mug in his hand. She raised her eyebrows at him as he handed it to her.

“Whiskey. The good stuff.”

She made a soft _ooh,_ and took the mug gratefully. Proper glass etiquette went out the window in a world where most glass things were shattered. He watched her take a sip, bliss spreading over her face, before she leaned back in the tub.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to be home.”

“You haven’t seen the bed yet.”

She winced. “Dogmeat?”

“Yep. He’s passed out in the middle of it. By now it’s as wet as the clothes you just stepped out of.”

“I’m going to _murder_ him,” she groaned.

Preston grinned. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

Darkness swept over her again, refusing to be kept at bay. She stared at the scar circling her left upper arm. It was now an ever-present reminder of _him._ “I was so wrong about him, Preston. So wrong. It was… not the kind of bond I thought was forming.”

Preston’s lips tightened into a concerned line. “Tell me everything.”

And so she did. Every interaction, every word, every nuance. The whiskey helped, loosening the words lodged at the back of her throat. She felt like a fool, now, laying all the facts before herself in her mind. The signs had been there, glaringly obvious. A lonely, dying man with a god complex had fixated on her. He had taken the genuine affection she showed _everyone_ and twisted it into something that suited that _he_ wanted. She had been groomed for a purpose, just as the Institute had groomed him. It made her feel physically ill, and from time to time she would have to pause her story to cover her face with her hands and focus on her breathing. In all likelihood, his obsession was the only reason she was still alive and not dead at the feet of a Courser. When she was done and had shared the last of it, she looked up at Preston to see his brows knit.

“Hero and Leander,” he said with disgust. “That was the first glaring warning right there.”

“I don’t know who they are,” Edun shrugged. “You’re the history buff, not me.”

“Star-crossed lovers from Greek mythology. Hero drowned, and Leander threw herself into the sea and to her death.”

Edun closed her eyes and curled herself into a ball, the hot water no longer bringing her comfort. “I need to be more careful how I pick my friends.”

“Don’t say that,” Preston protested, lowering himself to his knees beside the tub. He reached out and tucked some of the damp tendrils of her hair behind one ear. “Your ability to reach people… To worm your way into their hearts… That is special. It’s not something everyone has. Never doubt for a second that the way you are is anything but incredible.” 

A little hiccup escaped her, and then another. She wrapped her arms around Preston, dragging him to the edge of the tub, and buried her face in his warm neck. 

  
  


-

  
  


The next morning, Edun took her pip boy to Sturges and explained her suspicion that the Institute had been using it to track her. He took the device over to his worktable and immediately began to disassemble it, talking while he worked.

“Honestly, it’s not impossible. There’s more than one way to track. There’s the way you tracked down that Courser at Greenetech, via the EM disruption. But that ain’t the best way, and you have to kinda already know where your target is at. No, my guess is there’s somethin’ else in here that they’re lockin’ on to.” He leveled a gaze at Edun. She hovered pensively, watching him intently. “It might take me a little while to get to this, boss. Why don’t you run along and make yourself useful. I’ll let you know what I find.”

For lack of something better to do, Edun threw herself into gardening. The neat rows of corn and tatos had reached the perfect ripeness, and everyone was busy harvesting the crops while Marcy and Mama set up an assembly line for canning. Jun had gotten creative, and with the help of some various spices and dried goods, had been canning a variety of items. Salsa, pasta sauce, creamed corn, vegetable stew, beef stew, steamed mirelurk in broth. When winter hit, Sanctuary would be ready, that was for sure. Edun didn’t see many carrots, but for all she knew they were being hidden among seemingly innocuous recipes. Still, Edun was relieved for something to do that didn’t involve fighting muties or wading through sewage, and sat at a table happily shucking corn while Dogmeat sat on her feet and gobbled up anything that fell. RJ approached her, stripped down to a tank top and military pants, his sun-browned skin shining with sweat. Like Dogmeat, the slender young man had filled out under Edun’s watchful and doting eye. He slid onto the bench across from her, taking a long swig from his canteen. Edun smiled at him, pausing in her work.

“You like working the land,” she observed.

He shrugged. “I always have. It’s what I was doing, for a while… back in the Capital Waste. Shi-, uh, crappy pay, though.”

“I remember. If I may ask, what’s the plan? Are you returning to the Capital after we deal with the Institute?” She didn’t want to broach the subject of Ellie outright, but curiosity was burning her up inside. She had expected RJ to withdraw from Ellie once the cure for Duncan was found, but it would seem the relationship had only intensified.

“You’re awful nosy,” RJ said, reaching out and tweaking Edun’s nose. Edun laughed, startled, and swatted at him.

“I am only asking because if you do leave, I’m giving your house to Dogmeat.”

RJ rolled his eyes. “If you _must_ know, I am staying here. I’ve thought about it a lot,” he added, seeing Edun’s eyes widen. “And it makes more sense to be here. You’re here, for one. And...Ellie. And the others. I think this would be a good place for Duncan to grow up. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to bring him here. To Sanctuary. At this point, it’s one of the safest places in the Commonwealth. You could be his auntie and Preston could be his uncle.”

Edun set down the ear of corn she was holding and reached across the table to take RJ’s hand in hers. “RJ, nothing would make me happier. Of _course_ he is welcome here.”

RJ let out a long breath, as though he has been holding it in for a while. As though he were afraid Edun would say no, which was absurd, of course. “Good, because… I asked Daisy to arrange for Duncan to return with the caravan.”

Edun laughed. “Guess that was a well-placed gamble, huh?”

“You were never gonna say no, and we both know it.” He grinned. “Which brings me to my next question. Or, really, a favor as it were.”

Edun leaned forward. “Do tell.”

“First you have to promise me you won’t make fun. And you _cannot_ tell Cait. I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Edun was doubly intrigued. “Okay. I won’t breathe a word of it unless you tell me I can. Let’s hear it.”

“I want to ask Ellie to marry me. And I need your help figuring out how.” He jumped when the shrill screech erupted from Edun. Corn husks went everywhere as Edun launched herself across the table to hug RJ, who flapped his arms like a startled bird at the embrace.

“Oh my _god._ I knew things were serious, RJ, but I didn’t know they were _that_ serious,” Edun said breathlessly once her butt had returned to the bench. “I mean, obviously I will help you. This is the best thing to happen in _months_.”

“Don’t get too worked up just yet,” he shook his head. “I want to get this crap resolved with the Institute first. If I do this, it’s gotta be without that nightmare still hanging over our heads.”

“Understandable,” she agreed. “I guess I’ll have lots of time to think up ideas.”

RJ pulled the bin of corn closer to him and began to help shuck the ears of golden corn. They worked together in comfortable silence for a time. In the distance, Preston was chatting with a group of traders animatedly. Something he said must have been a joke, because the group burst out laughing. He looked easygoing. Happy. Despite all the things they had yet to do, he was content. He turned, then, as though sensing her eyes on him. Their gazes locked from across the distance, and he gave her a slow, tender smile. Edun realized she was returning it when RJ cleared his throat. She shifted her eyes to RJ, who was watching her with a knowing look of his own.

“What about the two of you?” He asked. “Seems like there’s a lot there. You two ever talk about the future?”

Edun mulled the question over for a moment. The future wasn’t something she put a lot of thought into. Every time she ventured out that gate, she half expected to end up dead somewhere. Shot by raiders, maybe, or smashed into a pulp by a super mutant. She had narrowly avoided death more than a few times, now. It was hard to dream of a future when the world she called her own spent far too much time trying to kill her.

“It doesn’t really come up,” she said at last. “We have so much to accomplish still, and you know as well as I do that much of what we do puts a target on our backs, one way or another. How can I plan a future when I don’t know if there will be one?”

“You realize you’re talking to a hired gun, right?” RJ quipped. “Not the best line of work to go into if you want a future, either. But life doesn’t wait around for you to decide you deserve to enjoy it. Every moment you waste not living it to the fullest is a moment you can’t get back.”

“RJ, I didn’t take you for a philosopher,” Edun smiled at him. He was right, of course. He was choosing to live, whether that was for two days or two years. He had come a long way from the guarded mercenary she found skulking in the back of the Third Rail. The irony of it all was that despite his words urging her to enjoy herself, she couldn’t. She needed to talk to the Railroad about the events at Bunker Hill. She needed to rendezvous with the Brotherhood. More than anything, she wanted to talk to Madison Li. She wanted some answers. She was terrified by the things she had discovered in the Institute and during her last confrontation with Shaun. She decided the Railroad could wait. They had a handful of synths to integrate into the Commonwealth and would be busy running the logistics of _that_ for a while.

She delivered the bucket of prepared corn to Jun’s kitchen, and then made her way over to where Preston stood. Seeing her approaching, he excused himself politely from the discussion and turned to her, pulling her in for a quick kiss to the forehead.

“You smell like the earth,” he said approvingly. 

“That’s a sweet way of saying I stink,” she smiled.

“You never do. Dogmeat, on the other hand…” Preston grimaced. “I don’t think we’ll ever get the smell of wet dog out of our bedroom.”

Dogmeat huffed daintily and sat back on his haunches, looking somehow reproachful. Edun laughed.

“How dare you. He smells like butterflies and sunshine and Good Boy.” Her fingers found the underside of an ear and got to work.

“You’ve got that look on your face,” Preston observed, eyes regarding her.

“What look?” Edun demanded. “This is just how my face is.”

“The look that says you need to go somewhere,” he sighed. “That’s my Edun. Here one moment, gone the next.”

“Sorry, baby. I’m not leaving just yet. I’m waiting on Sturges to sort out my pip boy. I’m still yours for today and one more night.”

“Are you okay to leave again? So soon after... everything?” 

She considered his question for a moment. “Yeah.” she said at last, nodding. “In fact it is _because_ of everything that I want to go. I need to talk to Madison, and I need to hear Maxson’s plan for dealing with the Institute. I’m on board this train now, no brakes.”

“I have a suggestion, if I may,” Preston offered.

“You’re the General of the Minutemen, remember? You don’t have to be so polite. Be bossy.” She winked.

He chuckled at that. “Years ago, before I joined the Minutemen, our organization held a fort southeast of Boston. They called it The Castle. I don’t know the exact details of what happened there. Rumor is something came out of the sea and drove the Minutemen back, but that’s all I know. I’ve been thinking for some time now that it might be a good idea to retake the place. Communications have been getting pretty screwy between settlements. Our men are spread out far and wide and logistics are strained. Having a strong central base and a powerful broadcasting signal would aid us immensely in our growth. And if we’re going to war with the Institute...We may want someplace a little better fortified than Sanctuary. Fences don’t keep synths out, we know that much.”

She tapped her chin with an index finger thoughtfully. “How big of a fight do you think we’re in for? Maybe we should do some recon first, see if we can sort out what the threat is like before we send our people in.”

“Might be difficult to see over those high walls, but we could try.” 

“Let’s make a sweep of it,” she decided. “We’ll go to the Prydwen and touch base with Madison Li. I’ve got a long conversation I want to have with that woman. Then we can see about having a vertibird loop around this Castle of yours. Sounds like it’s a short flight from the airport, anyway, and we might as well take advantage of the view from above while we have it.”

“I suppose that’s an invitation to join you?” Preston’s eyes twinkled.

“Well, don’t ask me. Dogmeat is the one who approves all mission personnel,” Edun said seriously.

Before leaving the next day, Edun returned to Sturges for a summary of his findings. Sturges returned her pip boy to her.

“Well, I found the problem. That chip they put in there, for teleporting… It was rigged, I guess you could say. Each time you teleport, It emits a special low frequency pulse. Everywhere you go, it’s kinda like you got a bell around your neck for anyone lookin’.”

“And the chip is gone now?” Edun asked, handling the device gingerly.

“It’s gone now,” he affirmed. “Nobody should be able to find you now, boss.”

She let out a sigh of relief as she snapped the pip boy closed around her left wrist again. One mystery solved.


	44. Atomic Snack Cakes

A vertibird took them from Cambridge to the Prydwen. Danse had not been in his usual position of Cambridge. According to Haylen, he had gone on to the Prydwen to discuss matters with Elder Maxson. Edun was pensive, wondering how her reception among them would go today. Things had been strained between her and Maxson, to be sure, and things with Danse… well, they felt as though they were in an uncomfortable standoff. Maxson’s reaction to her arm and that moment fraught with danger on the command deck was still fresh on both of their minds. He had been put in a terrifying position. She had challenged everything he thought he knew.

Edun was surprised to see him waiting on the platform as their vertibird docked, clad in BDUs and a small smile on his lips. He would not hug her, she knew, not here on the Prydwen with a thousand eyes watching… but he clasped her hand warmly, affection in the gesture and in his eyes.

“Edun. I hope you are well.” He turned to Preston next. “Preston. I hear you have acclimated to your new role as though you were born for it.”

Preston looked momentarily stunned by the praise, but gave the Paladin a nod and thanked him. While Danse and Preston could not be considered friends per se, they seemed to have a polite and friendly accord. Edun knew that was more due to Danse’s standoffishness than Preston. Preston was a warm, sweet, gooey-centered lava cake while Danse was a long-needled cactus. She hoped over time the two might bond, but had a feeling that would never happen as long as Danse oozed brotherhood doctrine.

“Elder Maxson is most eager to speak with you,” Danse told her as they made their way to the command deck. “He is pleased with your success in recruiting Dr Li again, as well as the events of Bunker Hill.”

“I never thought the day would come that Elder Maxson was pleased with anything,” Edun muttered. Danse made a disapproving sound in his throat as he opened the door for her. Maxson was waiting for her in his usual spot, and when he saw Edun he actually _smiled._ Edun wondered briefly if this was Opposite Day. She’d missed the memo.

“Edun, good to see you made it out of Bunker Hill in one piece.” _Was that an arm joke? It really must be Opposite Day._

“Elder,” she inclined her head. “I trust Madison has settled in nicely?”

“Of sorts. I actually have a matter to discuss in regards to her.” He tilted his head and scrutinized her for a moment. “Despite my doubts about you, thus far you have proven yourself to be an able and trustworthy ally. As such, I am going to let you in on secret information that until now, no outsider has been privy to. Do you know anything of the liberation of Alaska?”

Edun raised her eyebrows. “A lot, considering I served two consecutive tours on Alaskan soil.”

_“Incredible,”_ Maxson breathed, then caught himself. “Then you must know something of Liberty Prime.”

“The giant useless robot? Yeah, I know of it. What does that have to do with Madison?”

“We are rebuilding him,” Maxson’s voice had an edge of excitement to it. “Years ago, Dr Li assisted the brotherhood in reconstructing him for our war against the Enclave. He was destroyed in a bombardment later, but we were able to salvage a good deal of the parts. That is why I needed Dr Li on our side now. _Liberty Prime is our way into the Institute.”_

“Okay, hang on a minute,” Edun held up her hands. “First of all, let’s start with the fact that I have been evicted from the Institute. Just figured you should know that. They didn’t appreciate my involvement at Bunker Hill, and I’m out of the cool kids club. Second of all… If _my_ tiny human self can’t get in, how is a busted up robot going to? He couldn’t even stand up in there. Maybe in the Atrium, but...”

“Liberty Prime has the ability to scan for subterranean structures,” Maxson interrupted. “He finds an entry point and blows a giant hole in the ground. From there, we go boots to the ground. We muster our forces and invade the Institute.”

“Woah,” Edun breathed, somewhat impressed. She did love a good explosion. “So...that’s what Madison is doing now? Building your robot?”

“Not as of yet,” Maxson said, shaking his head. “She has been...reluctant to work on the project. She clearly still has personal ties within the Institute, and has refused to begin her work. I was hoping you could talk to her. She is in the Maintenance Bay.”

Edun was running through all the possible consequences in her head. If she let the Brotherhood into the Institute, they would kill anyone who so much as blinked in a way that looked synth-y. Did she want to unleash that sort of attack? And what about the scientists and other staff? She didn’t give two shits if someone put a bullet between Ayo’s eyes, but… the others were relatively innocent. She needed to delve into the heart of this more thoroughly before she went and pushed Madison into such a project.

“Can we talk in private?” She asked. “Mono y mono?” 

Maxson nodded, and waved off Danse. Preston looked at Edun with raised eyebrows, but followed the Paladin out of the room, the door latching behind them a little louder than necessary. Dogmeat stayed, blinking innocently under Maxson’s stare before the Elder returned his gaze to Edun.

“Speak freely,” Maxson urged, as though she ever needed permission for that.

“Here’s the thing,” Edun said, folding her arms over her chest. “I want to get into that Institute, and I want to destroy it. That’s not in question here. But I don’t want to kill innocent people, and I don’t want to murder synths. I know you think they are abortions; that you feel they are the symbols of man playing god, and maybe you’re right on that… but the fact of the matter is they are innocent in this. They didn’t ask to be created. They were never given a choice. They serve out their lives as slaves to the Institute’s whims. I won’t help you if it means all those innocent synths are caught in the crossfire. So, if you want my help...and you want me to chat with Madison or go on runs for parts for your big robot, which I’m sure will be next on your list of demands… I need your promise that you will only destroy the equipment used to create the synths, and not the synths themselves.”

“Absolutely not,” Maxson snapped. “You are asking me to release ticking time bombs into the Commonwealth. To disguise wolves as sheep and allow them to hide their true natures. Do you have any idea what kind of mayhem you are asking me to call down? At any moment, a synth can become a deadly weapon of the Institute. An instrument used to carry out their will. These abominations--”

“With no Institute to interfere with or control them, why does it matter?” Edun cut him off. “They will be free of the Institute, just as much as the rest of the Commonwealth. There will be nobody _to_ interfere with their acclimation to regular lives. For all intents and purposes, they _are_ human. They are made from real human tissue. They experience all the thoughts and emotions humans do. They fight for their freedom despite the risk of losing their independence and all their memories. If they are caught, they are wiped and put back to mopping floors or turning down sheets. They are prisoners in that hell, and they desperately need help getting out of there.”

“Their memories can be wiped, Edun,” his voice was deadly quiet. “Because they are _machines.”_

“By every account of the men and women who serve under you, you are an intelligent and fair-minded man. I find it hard to believe that in the face of everything, you are insisting on this route of stubborn narrow-mindedness.”

“Let me ask you something, Edun,” he paced back and forth, agitated. “If you were diagnosed with cancer, and your doctor insisted on destroying the cancer only partially, what would happen? Would you recover, or would the cancer grow back, stronger than ever, and kill you? I mean to eradicate the Commonwealth’s cancer, not merely place a bandaid over it. Every single cancerous cell must be destroyed. Every scientist, every synth, every log, every piece of equipment. I will leave _nothing._ ”

“We aren’t _talking_ about mutated cells. We’re talking about _people,_ ” she ground out. “You’re diminishing what they are so you can guiltlessly murder them.”

“Either you help us, or you stay out of our way.” Maxson’s words were pure ice. “If you were one of my soldiers, I would have you scrubbing the Prydwen’s decks with a toothbrush while we took the battle to the Institute. Since you are not, those are your options. Aid us as a consultant, or stay out of the way as a civilian. Either way, we will get Liberty Prime operational again and we _will_ take the Institute.”

“Danse has _so_ much faith in you,” Edun said sadly. “I don’t understand the blind loyalty. Your hate for the Institute has impaired your ability to see the whole picture.”

“I will not debate this further with you.” Maxson turned his back to her, then, walking over to the large windows and looking out of them. “If you leave the Prydwen without convincing Dr Li to help us, then I suppose I will have my answer. Dismissed.”

It took every ounce of strength she had not to slam the door behind her like an angry child. She had hoped he might be swayed, but the man had a backbone of iron and the empathy of a raisin. Danse and Preston were waiting for her, brows raised questioningly. She shook her head, her mouth a grim line. She drew Danse aside, his gloved hand clasped in hers. 

“I can’t do this,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “He’s asking me to do things I just can’t do, Danse. I’m going to talk to Madison, and then I’m going to leave. And I...don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.” Her throat tried to close around the words, contracting against the pain of them.

Her pain was mirrored in Danse’s eyes. “I wish you were on our side,” he breathed. “I wish you could see things the way we do. But… I understand. You have never demanded I compromise my values for you, and so I will not ask such a thing of you either.”

“I can’t stand idly by, either,” she all but whispered.

“Edun,” Danse’s brow darkened, and he placed his other hand over hers. “Do not cross Elder Maxson. He is not a man to be trifled with. If you get in his way, he _will_ kill you.”

She smiled through the tears brimming in her eyes. “Some things are worth dying for, honey. I know you can understand that.”

He bowed his head and nodded. “Yes. I can.”

He drew her into a hug, then, the soldiers nearby be damned. Edun had a terrible feeling this would be the last time she ever saw her friend. At least… in a peaceful setting. The next time she saw him might be from across a battlefield, guns drawn. They parted after a few minutes, and with a final nod, Edun turned and made her way to the Maintenance Bay.

Madison Li was standing by a work table and in heavy discussion with Proctor Ingram when Edun approached them. Seeing Edun, Madison dismissed Ingram. She strode over to Edun, anger in her body language.

“Did you know what they wanted me to work on?” She demanded, her voice hard.

“Why would they tell me?” Edun fired back. “I only just found out myself.”

“They want me to blow up the Institute and everyone in it,” Madison shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do it. There are good people down there. Colleagues I respected.”

“I’m not here to convince you to do it,” Edun shook her head. “I already told Maxson I wouldn’t help him with such a thing. If you choose to help them, that is your decision. I won’t be a part of it either way.”

“Then why are you here?” 

“I want you to tell me everything you know about Shaun and I. You clearly knew something was going on, because you warned me the last time we spoke. You told me the Institute was a dangerous place to be. What do you know?” Edun couldn’t be sure the woman knew about the nature of Shaun’s obsession. The revelation of it still sent waves of nausea through her if she thought on it for too long. She wanted to hear about the missing pieces of the puzzle. What had he been up to?

“I suppose I owe you as much,” Madison relented. She moved back to her work table and drew out two chairs. “You might want to sit down.”

Edun sat, and Preston stood behind her - his big hands on either shoulder. She leaned back into him, the comfort of his presence relieving some of the tension in her.

“It started after your first visit,” Madison began, taking a seat herself. “He told us of your true origins, of course. We had all expected his mother would be joining us, and your story was quite a shock to everyone. His whole life, he had built up an idea in his head. At first, he was… almost disappointed. But something shifted, changed. After the surgery to repair your arm, and the weeks following your departure, he grew more and more obsessed with the idea of you. He would spend hours pacing his balcony, watching for you to appear. Or he would go into SRB and watch the monitors for signs of you. When that wasn’t enough, he went to see Dr Binet. By now, you must have surmised his reason for it.” 

“I still want to hear it,” Edun said quietly.

Madison shrugged and continued. “He ordered Dr Binet to begin plans for creating a copy of you. He wanted it exact, down to the last minute detail. With your DNA in the Institute’s system, such a thing was within the Institute’s capabilities. But they were missing important data. They needed more of your speech patterns, studies of your mannerisms and inflections. Enough details about you that they could create a believable rendition of your personality. Normally, when creating a replacement for a subject, there is extensive interrogation and observation. Days, sometimes weeks for more complex personalities, are poured into the effort. Dr Binet and his team were limited to the handful of visits you made. Father - Shaun, that is - recorded every conversation and interaction with you in an attempt to fill in the blanks.”

“No wonder he kept asking me to share stories and details about myself. He even felt out my taste in music.” Edun felt sick and dizzy. Preston’s thumbs kneaded comforting circles into her shoulders.

Madison nodded. “He was determined to have you in his life, one way or another. When he realized you couldn’t be kept… that you were never going to join us… he decided he would replace you.”

“Was he planning to kill me, then?” Edun asked.

“That, I do not know, but it is likely. I imagine he wanted to see how successful his recreation of you would be first. Without you, there would be no chance of perfecting the design. He needed you for the… blueprint, as it were.”

“Is she in danger now?” Preston interjected, his voice low. “Will they come after her?”

“Not as far as I know,” Madison replied. “Not yet, anyway. They may continue their attempts to gather information on her and observe her from afar. Or, they may move forward with their plan for the copy. Recreating her or not, Shaun is deeply obsessed. I do not believe killing Edun would be an easy choice for him to make. She may be perfectly safe… until she gets in his way.”

“What does the Institute… and Shaun… really want? What is their goal?” It was the one question she had wanted to ask the most.

Madison smiled grimly. “That is the question of the century, isn’t it. In the beginning, it was to create life. To replace the broken beings of the Commonwealth with hardier, more resilient versions of themselves. Plainly put, the Institute wanted to replace human life with a better version. That is why the Gen 3s were designed. Immune to disease and radiation but otherwise human in every sense of the definition, they were to be the Commonwealth’s hope. In accompaniment, we designed plants that were radiation resistant while demanding less nutrients, high-yield and hardy. We were going to resolve hunger, slowly eliminate the demand for purified water, and give humanity a real fighting chance.”

“So they were going to… what, kill everyone on the surface and take over?” Edun was aghast.

“No,” Madison shook her head firmly. “Not in the beginning. I would never have signed on for such a thing. The original intent was to integrate them into the population, much like what your Railroad does in secret. They would mingle, marry, reproduce, and slowly strengthen and replace organically. It was not the founder’s intentions to destroy humanity, but to _help_ them.”

“So where did it start going wrong?” 

“Shaun’s predecessor began to… lose sight of the goal near the end. His intentions became corrupted. He convinced himself humanity was beyond saving, and that the best bet was to replace them entirely in one fell sweep. The new population of synths would usher in an era of peace and prosperity, for they would be under the control of the Institute.”

“A perfectly controlled population of slaves, who wouldn’t blink without being programmed to.” Edun clenched her jaw in fury.

“Precisely,” Madison agreed. “With Shaun’s DNA providing the breakthrough needed to create the Gen 3s, plans were altered. Originally, the Gen 3s had been intended to possess full reproductive capabilities. With the new goal in mind, they were instead created sterile. No synths would ever be permitted to create life. Only the Institute would have that power. It was the discovery of this information that led me to find myself...disenchanted with the Institute. By the time I was recruited, the change in plan had long been the true goal. I was fed lies to ensure my cooperation. I don’t like being lied to.” Her eyes hardened at the thought. “The Director warped and twisted that little boy until he grew up to be a man in his own image, sharing in the same ideals and warped sense of morality. Shaun may be a brilliant man, but he only wants power and control. The Commonwealth and the people in it mean nothing to him. They are an experiment.”

Edun closed her eyes. What might the world be like if she had somehow stopped them from taking Shaun? Or if she had stumbled out of that vault ten years later, as she thought she had in the beginning? There was time to intervene and set things right with a boy of ten. But a man of sixty? It was far too late to right that wrong. The Institute had kept her right where they wanted her while they took Shaun and twisted him into an instrument of their will. Guilt, an old friend, writhed in her belly. She realized her fingers were stroking her scarred cheek again, and willed them to return to her lap.

“So, if I am understanding all of this… the plan now is to wipe out the Commonwealth’s population and replace them entirely, then.”

“Yes,” Madison said. “That is why I had to get out of there.”

“Why haven’t they done it? What are they waiting for?”

“Power and resources,” Madison explained. “The Institute takes an enormous amount of both to keep things running. When I left, they were putting together a plan to set the Institute up with essentially unlimited power. If they accomplish that, then they will have half the equation. The rest will simply be a matter of sending out troops to gather resources. Soon, they will have what they need to build the numbers required for their plan to work. I need to put a stop to it, I’m just… not sure if the ends justify the means. Maxson wants a massacre. I only want peace. But perhaps he is right. If we destroy the equipment, the minds and technology still exist to start over. I don’t know if that is a risk we can afford to take. Perhaps we are only delaying the inevitable, otherwise.”

“I don’t think Maxson can be reasoned with. If you ally yourself with him… you are dooming hundreds to their deaths.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Madison’s voice was sharp. “This is not a decision I take lightly. My entire life, I have always done my best to contribute to the overall good of humanity. Now I feel no matter which way I swing my decision, I bring harm to a large portion of it.”

“The Minutemen could help,” Preston suggested. “Once we are more firmly grounded… once we establish our home base… I think we could do this the right way. We could get everyone out of the Institute with minimal casualties.”

“How would you get in?” Madison scoffed. “Even if you did get in, you would then be placing yourselves directly in the sights of the Brotherhood. They will not thank you for interfering. They have shot civilians for less. Sparing the scientists will only lead to more trouble down the road. Are you and your men prepared to shoot them in cold blood, to ensure the safety of humanity?”

“No,” Edun growled. “I will not condemn them for actions they have not yet taken.”

“Then I suppose we are at an impasse,” Madison said flatly. “I know what I must do, I only lack the courage. _You_ are in denial of what must be done, and may further doom the world as such.”

Edun stood, shrugging off Preston’s hands and squaring herself. “Then I wish you luck. Last one to the Institute is a rotten egg.”

She turned on her heel and left the deck, Preston and Dogmeat trotting to keep up with her pace. She was done exchanging words. They needed to take that fort back, and then they would focus on the task ahead… beating the Brotherhood to the Institute. She didn’t know how they were going to manage it without a giant laser-eyes robot, but maybe Dogmeat would have a trick up his sleeve. Atomic snack cakes?


	45. Love, Empathy, Courage

The vertibird ride was not particularly illuminating. The bird soared low over the enormous old fort, but all Edun saw were mirelurks and scattered nests of eggs. Whatever had spooked the Minutemen years ago was long gone. After some coaxing and the bribe of a bottle of whiskey, the pilot agreed to do a series of circular sweeps while Edun opened up on the mirelurks with the minigun. Helpless against the onslaught, the mirelurks waved their jointed legs angrily as rounds tore into them and the surrounding earth. Eggs exploded, enormous splashes of runny yolk creating splashes of yellow against the muddy ground. Edun paused after several minutes, but saw no more movement within the walls.

“Set us down, should be clear now,” she called to the pilot. He nodded, and maneuvered the vertibird to an area just outside the walls before carefully setting down. Edun paid up, handing the pilot her bottle of travel whiskey. She climbed down from the bird mournfully, feeling certain this would be her last vertibird ride ever. She had become disturbingly good at pissing off people and burning bridges. Dogmeat trotted ahead, climbing over the ruin of one wall to sniff curiously and lap at mirelurk egg yolk. Well, there was no accounting for _some people’s_ taste.

“This is what scared everyone away? Mirelurks?” She asked, before shouldering her rifle and firing on remaining eggs.

“Maybe it was a Deathclaw or something, who knows. Like I said, it’s been years,” Preston answered, joining her in destroying the nests.

If the gunfire drowned out the terrible sound, it did not disguise the rumble in the ground at their feet. Edun stopped firing and lowered her gun. Dogmeat was completely tensed, a loud growl emitting from him. He was staring off into the distance, at the other half-ruined wall of the fort. The ground trembled again, and then again. As if something really fucking big was heading their way. Edun had a feeling it wasn’t Mayor McDonut, either.

“Preston,” she said as she popped a fresh cell into her laser rifle. “That doesn’t sound like a goddamn deathclaw. Or _feel_ like one.”

“Be ready for anything,” he answered grimly.

Edun grabbed a frag grenade from her belt and hooked her left thumb through it. The thunderous steps drew closer, and then slowly but surely a mirelurk queen’s hideous head appeared over the rubble of the wall. Edun had never seen one up this close. She had only seen one once before, looking down from a vertibird. She remembered feeling relieved that the wretched thing was far, far away from her. Now… it was not so far away.

“Those things spit acid!” Preston warned. “Don’t let it get too close.”

The queen’s glittering eyes fixated on the moving figures before her, and as though on cue, a gout of steaming green glop erupted from somewhere beneath her chittering mandibles. Edun had anticipated it, and was already sprinting out of the way. She lobbed the grenade she had been holding ready, and the blast of it made the enormous creature recoil. While the concussion of it seemed to affect her, the scaled plating of her body deflected most of the bits of frag. Preston fired on the queen, drawing her attention away from Edun, and Edun pulled a plasma grenade from her belt instead. If a frag grenade wouldn’t do it, a plasma grenade might. They were vicious little fuckers and packed a wallop. The grenade sailed through the air and landed at the feet of the mirelurk, unnoticed. The ensuing explosion was a sphere of ionized plasma gas and green light expanding around the mirelurk queen.

When the light faded, Edun saw the grenade had done its job much better than the frag. Two of the queen’s limbs were severed, others clearly damaged, and she teetered lopsidedly as she struggled to regain her bearings. More green glop flew towards Edun, but again she was ready and danced out of the way. She hurled another plasma grenade, and followed up immediately after with a volley of laser fire. The queen screamed and thrashed, ducking her face low and charging at Edun with a bizarre _slide-thump, slide-thump_. Her movement placed her directly over the grenade, and it detonated against the underside of her belly. The queen let out an unearthly screech, and Edun could see ichor leaking from damaged plating. The mirelurk jerked to the side, thrown off course and confused by the explosion and ensuing pain. Little by little they were making progress. The downside was that was the last plasma grenade Edun happened to have on her.

Edun took advantage of the queen’s disorientation. With her beady-eyed little face exposed again, Edun opened fire. Even now, she remembered the instructions Preston gave her. _Relax, stay on target, control your breathing._ The queen’s face amidst all the thrashing limbs and armored body was a small one, but the laser rounds found their mark - tearing through the soft and vulnerable tissue. The glittering black eyes were replaced by smoking holes, and the queen swayed in place before crashing violently to the earth. Her legs twitched here and there, but otherwise she did not rise again.

Preston let out a long, low whistle and strode over to the dead queen. “Damn,” he said, walking around the hulking shape. “You could make a million mirelurk cakes out of this.”

Edun winced at the thought. “I’m not touching that oversized cockroach, but be my guest on harvesting it.”

“Let’s check the rest of the place out,” he said, suddenly excited. “Oh, look! There’s the broadcasting station. It’s a little beaten up, but I bet if we ran a power line to it again… Oh, and in here, this must be the barracks!” He was lost in his enthusiasm, wandering off and calling out or pointing to things. Edun raised an eyebrow at Dogmeat before following her excited lover through the abandoned halls. There were a lot more mirelurk eggs to be dealt with. The creatures had been deeply burrowed in, likely making this place their home for the better part of a decade. Edun wished she had a flamer, but shooting or smashing the eggs was still great fun. She had never been able to bring herself to eat the damn things, though she knew there was a market for them. They didn’t taste like eggs to her. They tasted like the damn sea. If she wanted scrambled eggs in the Wasteland, the price was one soul, paid in full to the Institute. Damn it all, life was unfair.

They found a room that appeared to be a General’s quarters. An old bed, dilapidated but otherwise somewhat intact, stood in one corner. There was a large table in the center of the room, an old map of the Commonwealth tacked down to it. The paper was crumbling and cracked. Faded red xs marked various points of the map - no doubt former strongholds of the Minutemen, judging from the mark on Quincy. Preston moved around the room, examining every piece of his organization’s past with fascination. Edun watched him, arms folded and her mouth curved into a smile. She loved him like this. He was completely geeking out, dreaming of the future of their people, and seeing him this way made her feel...what was it? Happy? Complete? It felt like… coming home, somehow.

He looked up from examining the map on the table again, his eyes shining. “We fucking did it,” he said wonderingly. “The Castle belongs to the Minutemen again.”

“I’m calling dibs on this for our bedroom,” Edun informed him. “I know you don’t like taking the big slice of the pie for yourself, but we just fought a mirelurk queen, so... I vote we get to call dibs on this.”

A wide grin split his face from ear to ear, and he marched around the table and lifted her off her feet, spinning her about in a circle. Edun laughed wildly, squirming in his tight embrace and kicking her boots in the air halfheartedly. The struggle wasn’t genuine. She didn’t really want him to put her down. She wanted him to hold her like this forever. For the rest of her life. That was the future she wanted, the future RJ had asked after. Just…This. He must have sensed the shift in her, for the delight in his eyes cooled to something else, and the tight squeeze turned into an embrace that conveyed a thousand things. Her lips met his; warm pressure giving way to hot tongues and utter greed. He set her on her feet again, and the silence was punctuated by little gasps and moans as they explored each other. Buckles came undone, boots went flying in various directions, blue dusters fell to the floor. She stole his hat from his head and put it on her own, giggling as he snarled playfully and kissed her even harder, callused hands squeezing all the pliant and soft parts of her.

The bed was old, the springs rusted and squeaking, but neither of them cared as the weight of their bodies elicited protests from it. She kept the hat on. 

  
  


-

The following week was a flurry of activity. Minutemen came from all over the Commonwealth to lend a hand on cleaning up and repairing the Castle. Turrets were installed, walls were slowly rebuilt, and the mirelurk remains and nests were hauled out of the castle. The queen’s bulk was the tough one. Ropes were thrown around her, and it took a dozen men to haul her remains over the ruined wall and back to the water. A trader came from Goodneighbor, the pack brahmin laden with food and medical supplies. It would take them months to get this place fully ready to act as a major hub for the Minutemen, but it was a start. Preston immersed himself in his duties as General, overseeing the renovation of the Castle as well as continuing to dispatch aid throughout the Commonwealth. Edun assisted Sturges with the various wiring needed throughout the castle; a task considerably easier with both hands.

The radio was the first thing they wired, as it was the most vital part of their operation. Soon calls began coming in from all over, and shifts were appointed to monitor and broadcast around the clock. Support for the Minutemen had been growing steadily over the months of their hard work, and their ranks were swelling as more and more took up the call.

“We’re going to need a tailor to make more coats and armbands,” Edun teased Preston after he finished giving his welcome speech to another group of recruits. “I’m rotten with a needle, so you’ll have to do it.”

“I’m astounded at how many people believe in us,” he shook his head. “More come every day. It’s more than I ever expected.”

“Hmmm. It’s almost like… You’re an amazing General, and people want to follow you. Crazy, huh?”

He kissed her. “You are far too smug for your own good.”

A young woman approached them, and they reluctantly broke apart. She bobbed her head in apology. “Sorry to interrupt, General sir, but… there is a call for Edun. They said it’s urgent.”

Edun lifted one brow, but nodded and followed her to the radio platform. The woman handed her a pair of headphones with a mic, and Edun placed them over her ears.

“This is Edun,” she spoke into it.

_“Edun? This is Haylen. I need your help.”_ The scribe’s voice was panicked, emotional. 

“Haylen, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

_“They’re going to kill Danse,”_ Haylen gasped. _“They’re going to kill him if you don’t do something.”_

Kill Danse? What on earth had happened? Danse was arguably Maxson’s favorite officer, and had dedicated himself to the cause tirelessly for years now. Edun couldn’t imagine what had happened to change Danse’s relationship with the Brotherhood, but it had to be bad. Really bad.

“Haylen, I am willing to help, but I need you to tell me everything. Slow down, ok?”

A moment of silence and static as the woman gathered herself. _“That holotape you brought us, from… The Institute. Quinlan has been wading through it for weeks, cataloguing everything and trying to make sense of it. He found something this morning… And I overheard him telling Maxson about it. One of the DNA profiles for an Institute synth matches Paladin Danse. He’s… A synth. And they’re going to kill him if you don’t do something.”_

“Where is he?” Edun asked sharply. She didn’t need any more than that. If Danse was in danger, hell had best clear the way.

_“He was on a mission to the Glowing Sea when the news made it to Maxson. I radioed him and warned him. He told me he would go to a fallback point we identified months back, Listening Post Bravo. It’s just outside Greentop Nursery. He’s got to be feeling so frightened and alone, but… I can’t go to him. They’re watching us.”_

“I know the place,” Edun told her. “I will go to him as quickly as I can.”

_“Hurry,”_ Haylen urged. _“They have been combing over the Commonwealth looking for him. It’s only a matter of time. Maxson won’t stop until he finds Danse and kills him. He’s a security threat in their eyes, as well as… well, as well as an abomination. Their words, not mine.”_

“I know, honey. I’ll find him and I’ll make sure he’s safe. I promise.”

She ended the call and handed the headset back to the radio operator, completely stunned. Of all the people to be a synth… Danse, the poster boy for the Brotherhood of Steel. Haylen was right. If he was alive in that bunker, he would be feeling terrible and completely alone. She hoped she could make it to him before the Brotherhood figured out where he had gone. If he was smart, he would have abandoned his power armor and continued on foot. That big suit would be a flashing beacon, drawing attention to him, otherwise. Preston saw the stricken look on her face and approached.

“What’s going on?” 

“I...don’t even know where to start,” Edun said. “But Danse is in trouble, and I need to go. Right now.” 

Preston looked around him, at the activity and new troops milling around the Castle. “I can see about stepping away, let me talk to someone…”

Edun shook her head. “No. It’s okay. I’m going to go alone. I can move faster on my own, and I think Danse would prefer it that way. He’s going to be feeling very… exposed right now. I’ll explain when I get back.”

“Be safe,” Preston told her, both a command and a request. She answered him with a kiss, then jogged off to their room to retrieve her gear. Dogmeat sensed something was afoot and followed her. He watched with a cocked head as she strapped an arsenal to herself, including Preston’s beloved hat. She had never given it back.

“I see once again you are making me carry all the heavy gear,” she chastised the dog, who thumped his tail against the stone floor in response. “Someday I’m going to make you earn all those snack cakes.” 

She left the Castle at a slow run. No need to all-out sprint, it was one hell of a walk from here to the bunker. Preston gave her a wave from up on the ramparts, and she blew him a kiss.

-

In shape or not, Edun had spent the better part of a day and a night running cross-country through the Commonwealth. She ran into a few spots of trouble on the way, mostly raiders and a few super mutants in the middle of dragging a settler off for a dinner date, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She arrived outside the bunker at midday the next day, covered in sweat and dirt and a smidge of mutant blood. There was a stitch in her side from sprinting the final distance. She had done her best to duck into cover any time a vertibird droned by overhead. Haylen was correct. They were everywhere, combing through the Commonwealth in their search for Danse. Hunting him as if he were an animal. The thought filled her with rage. Not at the men and women aboard the vertibirds and marching across the ‘wealth… No, her rage lay with Maxson. He could only see the world in black and white, to the point he was willing to kill someone he cared about.

Turrets outside the abandoned bunker were online, no doubt Danse’s handiwork, and Edun had to duck for cover and pick them off one by one. There were more defenses farther in. A short elevator ride took her into the subterranean level, where more turrets and a handful of repurposed protectrons opened fire on her. Once she had taken them down, she peered through the darkness. Ahead, there was a room dimly lit by candles. A crumbling wall revealed a tunnel that wrapped around, and she followed it - walls made of dirt and rock illuminated by the dim light of her pip boy. The room with the candles appeared to be a control room of sorts, and there in the corner of the room sat Danse. He held his face in his hands, the picture of utter despair. He looked up when she entered the room, his face alternating from pensive to surprised to resigned. Words were not necessary for her to see what had just gone through his mind. He had heard the gunfire and expected it was the Brotherhood, having found him at last. He did not expect to see her. And now that she was here, he expected her to turn on him just as they had.

He pulled himself to his feet, broad shoulders slumped in defeat. She had seen him out of his power armor many times, and despite its bulk he had always seemed enormous, somehow. Not anymore. He was no less tall, no less powerfully built, but his presence was diminished. His pride and his confidence were broken. 

“I know why you are here,” his voice was subdued. “I will not stop you.”

Edun folded her arms. “I’m not here to murder you any more than I’m here to deliver a pizza, you jackass.”

He appeared confused. “But I am… a synth. Everything you thought I was is a lie.”

“The definition of a lie is a deliberate falsehood. You didn’t know. I imagine if you did, you wouldn’t have marched around the Commonwealth badmouthing synths and upholding an organization that would kill you so much as look at you.”

He gave a violent little shake of his head. “I am a synth. I am an abomination. I deserve to be put down. If you won’t do it, then… It is my duty to turn myself in.”

“You don’t believe that,” Edun told him flatly. “If you did, you wouldn’t have run. You wouldn’t be hiding out in this bunker. You want to know why you’re here?”

“Why?” His eyes were wary. The eyes of an animal fearing another beating.

“Because there is nothing more human than the instinct for survival. Strip away all the wonderful, terrible, and base instincts we have and only one thing remains… The drive to survive. Even with all that Brotherhood brainwashing swimming around in your brain, you want to live more than you want to be an example for them. And you feel that way,” she stepped closer, the distance between them only a couple feet apart now, “because you are as human as I am.”

“I know what you are trying to do, and… you are a kind person. Kinder than I deserve. But I can’t let you do this. If you save me, the Brotherhood will not rest until they have me in custody, or I am dead. You would be an obstacle to them, and they would not hold back. Not even for you. I can’t let you risk yourself. You are endangering everything you have worked so hard for… for a machine.”

Edun held up her left hand and pulled her glove off, rolled up her sleeve.

“Look at my arm, Danse. Touch it.” She extended the limb. Danse regarded her silently before taking her hand in his own. He looked at the delicate tracing of veins up the inside of her wrist, the distinct lines of the pads of her fingers, the soft down of hair over her forearm. “Now tell me this arm is not as human as the rest of me,” she pressed. “Tell me if you didn’t know it’s origin, you could still tell the difference between this arm and the rest of me.”

“I can’t,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean--”

“It means everything,” she hissed. “Your body was created in the same way my arm was. You have a brain just like mine. The only difference between us is I can make babies and you can’t. Because the Institute stole that from you. In every other regard, you and I are the same.” She freed her hand from his, turning it and pressing it to his chest, palm down. Beneath it, she could feel his heart racing. “Your heart is just like mine, Danse. It has the capacity for love, for empathy. This is where your courage and your loyalty come from. They aren’t _programs,_ Danse. They are _you._ And do you know why that’s amazing? _”_ She didn’t wait for his answer. “It’s amazing because not all human hearts are the same. Some are ugly, filled with darkness and hate. Some are fearful, cowardly, and mercenary. No two hearts are the same, but hearts like yours… Well, they are the rarest and most precious of all.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and she did nothing to stop it. The look on his face evoked powerful emotions in her, and she’d be damned if she was going to let him sit here and think for one second his life had less worth than hers. That he deserved to die for committing the crime of _existing._

“You really believe all this,” he breathed. “You believe I am… human?”

“What did I just say? Don’t make me bust out the megaphone.” She smiled through the pain. He looked down at her hand on his chest, then back up at her.

“I never… thought about it this way,” he said. “I never thought about how you, and others who care about me, might see me.” 

“Yeah, well, you might be a big dumb oaf sometimes, but your friends are pretty smart. You should listen to us once in a while.” 

His brow creased. “I don’t know what to do from here. The Brotherhood will shoot me on sight, and… If I’m not a Paladin, then what am I?”

“If you love soldiering so much, you can join us. Help us rebuild the Minutemen. Help us make the Commonwealth a safe place. Fight at our side to put an end to the Institute without unnecessary cruelty.”

“You want me to join your Minutemen?” He sounded incredulous.

“You can whip them into shape. Make them run laps and do pushups. Horrible things like that. You’ll love it. Dogmeat can hold your clipboard and whistle for you.”

“The Brotherhood will come for me,” he insisted. “And you, for aiding and abetting me.”

“Let Maxson come. I can take him. I have two hands now, and I’ve killed one more Deathclaw than he has.”

“Edun,” Danse said severely, “For all your issues with him, Elder Maxson is a great man and a good leader. I do not want him coming to harm on my account.”

“I will do absolutely everything I can to avoid a war with your tin friends, but I am not sacrificing my friend to achieve peace. Wars have been fought for less.”

He chewed on this for a moment before finally nodding. “Alright,” he agreed. “I will join you. I suppose it’s better than living out my remaining days here.”

Whatever elation or relief Edun felt at convincing Danse to fight for life was dampened by the unmistakable whir of vertibird rotors outside the bunker as they made their exit. Damn and double damn. She was sure she had avoided being spotted, but apparently someone had caught sight of her after all. They had followed her here. She’d inadvertently led the Brotherhood right to Danse, which she was sure they had been counting on. The situation went from bad to worse when Edun recognized the figure storming down the hill from the landing pad, leather coat flapping around his legs. Maxson.

“Maxson, this wasn’t her fault,” Danse began to say, automatically attempting to put himself between Maxson and Edun.

“I’ll deal with you in a moment, _abomination_ ,” Maxson roared. He turned his furious gaze to Edun, who had ducked out of Danse Mountain’s shadow. “I knew you’d turn on us when push came to shove. You made your intentions clear enough the last time you were aboard the Prydwen. You are a sympathizer to these machines, and even now, you defy the natural order. Danse cannot be allowed to exist. It is an affront to everything the Brotherhood of Steel stands for.”

“He’s not a machine,” Edun snapped, fending off Danse’s arm as he again tried to scoop her out of the way. “He’s your _friend._ You can’t tell me you don’t care about him. Never mind the rhetoric you love to spout. What does your _heart_ tell you?”

“He _was_ my friend. Now I see him...this _thing._ .. for what it is.” Maxson’s eyes glittered darkly as he looked at Danse. “It’s an automaton. A machine created to mimic the nuances of being human. It was not born to a loving mother. It was _grown_ in the cold confines of a lab. Flesh is flesh. Machine is machine. The two were never meant to intertwine.”

“After everything I have done for you, all the blood I have spilled in your name… How can you say that, Arthur?” Danse’s voice broke over the words.

Maxson’s jaw flexed. “You’re the physical embodiment of what we hate most. Technology that’s gone too far. Look around you, Danse. Look at the scorched earth, and the bones that litter the Wasteland. Millions, perhaps billions, died because science outpaced man’s restraint. Can’t you see the same thing is happening again? You’re a single bomb in an arsenal of thousands, preparing to lay waste to mankind once more.”

“Danse has done nothing but fight to protect mankind,” Edun interjected. “Can’t you see that he has always been one of you? He didn’t know he was a synth. His intentions and his beliefs are pure. He has meant everything done or said in the service of the Brotherhood. You are faulting him for a creation he had no choice in, and would condemn him to death for the crimes of others.”

Danse joined in. “When I saw my brothers die at my feet, I felt sorrow. When I defeated an enemy of the Brotherhood, I felt pride. And when I heard your speech about saving the Commonwealth… I felt hope. Don’t you understand, Arthur? I thought I was human. From the moment I was taken in by the Brotherhood, I have done absolutely nothing to betray your trust. And I never will.”

Edun could see Maxson wavering, an internal war being waged as he looked back and forth between Edun and Danse. She could see he wanted to bend, that forcing the issue hurt him as surely as it hurt Danse. Arthur Maxson was many things, but he was not without compassion.

“Let him come with me,” Edun said softly. “Nobody has to die here today. You will never see him again… not unless you want to. Danse will come to no harm with us, and we will keep today’s events to ourselves. _Please_ , Arthur. I know you care for him. I know that under that tough exterior of yours, there’s a man who really doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Let us walk peacefully. I know you don’t want to do this, but you are trapped in the bindings of your creed. Let me help you with this.” Her true thoughts played through her mind. _Please don’t make me kill you. It will serve no one, and Danse will never forgive me for it._

“As far as I am concerned, you died here today,” Maxson growled at Danse. “If you are seen by my people, you will be shot on sight. Do not approach us. There will not be a second warning.” He turned to Edun. “ _You_ have all but declared war on the Brotherhood. Tread lightly moving forward, Edun. It would be a shame to kill you.”

Without another word, the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel stormed back up the hill towards his vertibird. They were silent until the bird rose into the air and flew off towards Boston. At last, Danse let out a long, shaky breath.

“I suppose we’ll have to find somewhere else to get drunk. I don’t think they want us on the Forecastle anymore.”

Edun chuckled darkly. “Fuck the Forecastle. I’ve got an _actual_ Castle. Wait until you see it. We have _mortars.”_


	46. Quantum Weirdness

The Brotherhood presence eased back from the Commonwealth shortly after Maxson’s departure, and once the hum of vertibirds had all but disappeared from the sky, Edun and Danse began their journey back to the Castle. Danse was silent, withdrawn. His entire life and everything he knew had been shattered in an instant. Edun couldn’t imagine what he was going through. To realize he was the very thing he feared and hated… How did one look at themselves in a mirror after a blow like that? The Minutemen would be a good place for him. No synths to worry about. Not obvious ones, at least. They had plenty of ghouls among their ranks, but perhaps that would be a less tender subject for him. Edun alternated between pity for him and relief. She had a feeling there was a storm brewing with the Brotherhood, and she would end up in the midst of it soon. At least this way, she would not have to worry about facing her friend in battle. Bonus, she wouldn’t have to worry about him being ordered to kill her and facing either that or a court martial.

With the urgency of her prior sojourn across the Commonwealth gone, Edun’s tired body screamed for rest. She had barely slept and was  _ starving.  _ At one point, Dogmeat offered her a dead mole rat he’d caught, but Edun declined politely. If Sturges was a bad cook, Dogmeat… wasn’t one at all. He lacked the thumbs. She weighed her options, and decided a stop in Diamond City for the night might be a good idea. She didn’t want to camp out here, and they could stuff their faces on noodle bowls. She was pretty sure Danse had never even been in Diamond City. The closest he had come was the time he escorted her to the gate. They could pick him up a change of clothes, too. His BDUs emblazoned with Brotherhood insignia would only make everyone around him nervous. She wasn’t sure a tee shirt and jeans would lessen his imposing presence, but it was a start. She told him the plan, which he acknowledged with a grunt and a shrug of his defeated shoulders. 

They made it to Diamond City as evening light began to take hold, the west horizon a brilliant display of coral and gold. He was tense as they passed through the enormous gate, taking in his new surroundings. She stopped at the edge of the stands and observed him quietly as he looked down at the market below.

“I haven’t seen an establishment this size since Rivet City,” he confessed. “Even in the Capital, it is more… spread out and sparsely populated. Rivet City was the last time I saw so many people together like this.” His voice held longing in it, and a touch of pain. Rivet City had been where his life truly began. In a very real and literal sense now, they knew.

“Well, don’t get too excited. The people here are largely paranoid assholes. They’ll shoot you as soon as look at you. They know me. Just stay close and quiet.”

“They’ll shoot me if they find out I’m a synth, you mean,” he said darkly.

“You’re Danse. You’re my friend. That’s all that matters. If anyone tries to start shit with you, they’ll have to answer to both of us.” She didn’t allow him to spiral. She took his hand and led him down the many steps to the market.

Myrna was still around, manning the booth at Diamond City Surplus. No doubt she would retire, soon, and let Percy take over. Edun almost preferred the robot. He was far less suspicious and far less likely to gossip. Whatever her concerns, the towering form of Danse seemed to make Myrna forget her usual snide commentary, and the woman silently watched as Edun dug through her goods until she found what she needed. A handful of caps later, Edun held a change of clothing for Danse in her hands.

“Come on,” she told him, “You can’t change in the middle of the market, no matter how much some of the locals might enjoy it.” She walked across the market and then stopped, digging around in her pack outside of a metal door until she located the key she was looking for. She turned the key, unlocking the door. “Me casa es su casa,” she proclaimed, swinging the door wide and gesturing Danse inside.

“What is this?” He asked warily, stepping over the threshold and blinking in the darkness. Edun reached around him and flicked a switch. Light bathed the interior. Edun had done what she could to clean up the place on her last visit. Home Plate had been a glorified trash pile, the prior owner leaving everything behind. Wooden pallets, boxes and bins, broken furniture, and half the light bulbs smashed or no longer working had greeted her after the impromptu purchase. Blessedly, Nick had helped her put things in order. He was a pal like that. 

“This is my Diamond City home,” she explained. “I figured it might be handy to have a place myself or my friends could stay, if needed. Somewhere relatively safe and secure. RJ stays here when he’s in town wooing Ellie. Cait stays here when she’s on caravan duty. Preston stays here sometimes, when he has business in the area. It’s been quite handy, and far more comfortable than Nick’s couch.”

“A wise decision to create a fallback point for your team,” Danse said approvingly, looking around. The place was almost charming now. String lights garlanded the length of the ceiling, casting a warm glow over everything. The furniture was old but in nice shape, upholstered in faded velvet. Two bookshelves were against one wall, filled with a variety of things ranging from Moby Dick to Warlord of Mars. There was something for everyone. Since RJ was the one most often here, Louis L’Amour’s novels depicting the wild west seemed to be the most worn. A dog-eared copy of one such tale sat on the coffee table next to an empty Nuka-Cola bottle. There were dirty socks left on the ancient rug where they had been removed. Edun wrinkled her nose. RJ was like a teenager sometimes.

“There’s a loft upstairs where you can change,” she told him, handing the bundle of clothing to him. “If any of it doesn’t fit, check the dresser. You and Preston are likely the same size in a few things.” She eyed his broad shoulders and grinned.

Danse raised an eyebrow, but took the offered clothing and strode through the house, looking for the ladder up to the loft. Edun sat down with a relieved sigh on the worn velvet couch. Dogmeat joined her, hopping up onto the couch and prostrating himself across the cushions and Edun’s lap. She stroked the long canine head, cooing at him in her usual singsong. As days went, this one had been a doozy. Moreso for Danse, to be sure. There were few things a bowl of hot noodles couldn’t help, though, and she was looking forward to introducing Danse to all sorts of things. The Brotherhood had a tendency to suck the fun out of life. Now that he was free of the strictures of service, there was a whole world out there for him to experience.

When Danse finally reappeared, Edun had to hide a smile. The shirt she had purchased must not have fit, for he was instead wearing one of Preston’s tees. Nuka Girl winked saucily at Edun from her perch on Danse’s wide chest. The jeans had worked, though they were tight enough he might turn more than a few longing heads. His thick, dark hair hung over his forehead, no matter how many times he impatiently ran a hand through it. All in all, he was very handsome… and looked absolutely nothing like a typical wastelander. Ah, well. At least his insignia and military wear was gone.

“This is hardly a battle worthy ensemble,” he told her disapprovingly. “I will need to change back into something with proper protection after we leave Diamond City.”

“The only thing attacking you here will be the noodles,” she assured him, scooting the reluctant Dogmeat off her lap and clambering to her feet. “On second thought, it may be a struggle to keep the women off you.”

“Am I in danger?” He demanded, looking disturbed.

Edun chortled. “Oh, maybe. Not the sort of danger you think, though. Come on. Dogmeat is starving and so am I.”

He shot her a confused glance before following her out the door, which only elicited more laughter from her. He was really and truly clueless, and it only added to his charm. Acclimating him to the Commonwealth was going to be a treat. Power Noodles was empty. By now, most people were retiring for the evening. Edun gestured to a stool, and Danse seated himself. When Takahashi came by, Edun said  _ yes,  _ and held up three fingers. The robot tromped off to fulfill the order. Danse looked around them, taking in the overhang and strand lights, the sounds of the city slowing down for the night. She saw him observe the guards and their outfits with mild curiosity, and wondered if he knew what baseball was. Or if baseball was still a thing. She had never thought to find out.

“I have not been around this many civilians for the better part of a decade,” he reiterated. “And it feels… wrong. As though I forgot which leg moves forward first.”

“You’ll get used to it again. It was hard for me, too. The day the bombs fell, I was on my last week of leave and was due to report back for another tour. As far as I knew, I was about to spend eight months on Chinese shores, fighting for Uncle Sam. In all likelihood, being in that vault saved my life twice over.” Takahashi appeared again, placing three bowls of noodles before them. Edun set Dogmeat’s on the ground before taking a sip of her broth. It was like a warm hug, but on the inside. “Try it, it’s good. Anyway, arguably, waking up to the Wasteland was an easier transition than being doomed to an eternity among pre-war kind. There are few people in the Commonwealth who can’t pick up a gun and defend themselves. They’re a scrappy, tough lot. The bombs changed everything. Now, only the tough survive. For the most part. Unless you’re Mayor McDonut.” She paused in her rambling to look over at Danse. He was staring down at his noodle bowl, looking somewhat stunned.

“Good, isn’t it,” she grinned. 

“This is… outstanding. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“It’s the closest thing I’ve ever found to pre-war food. I try to stop here any time I’m in the area. My mother would call this ‘soul food.’ So tasty it nourishes the body and the soul.”

His eyes hardened at that, and he set his bowl down and looked at her. “I don’t have a soul, do I? Because I am a machine.”

“Danse,” Edun felt guilty for her flippant wording. “I’m… not a philosopher. Hell, I barely believe in these kinds of things myself. But my mother did, and she had a favorite saying. A philosopher named Will Durant wrote something that really struck her, and she had a needlepoint of it hanging above her favorite chair. It said,  _ ‘The hope of another life gives us courage to meet our own death, and to bear with the death of our loved ones; we are twice armed if we fight with faith. _ ’ Now, I have no way of knowing if a soul is a real thing or not. Science has nothing on it, save for some quantum weirdness I don’t really understand, but… Those that believe in the concept of a soul do so on  _ faith _ . There is nothing to back it up otherwise. For all I know, I don’t have one. But I’d like to think I do, and that Dogmeat does. And if we do, you definitely do.”

He offered her a grim little smile. “I’m not sure I trust you as an authority on the subject, Edun, but thank you.”

“That’s the whole point of faith, silly,” she said gently. “You are your own authority. What you believe in your heart of hearts becomes true. If there are no souls, if we all return to the earth when we die and there is nothing after… then it won’t matter, will it? We will be dead, and unaware of the disappointment, having gone to our graves believing there was more awaiting us. Believe whatever gives you peace. That’s all I can tell you.” She shrugged and stuffed an enormous amount of noodles into her mouth.

He sighed and lifted his bowl again. “You are terrible at pep talks, you know that?” 

“I’m terrible at a lot of things,” she acknowledged amiably. “But you are hurting, and since there is nobody I can punch for the crime, words are all I’ve got.”

“How did you do it?” He asked suddenly. “How did you crawl out of that vault, see the world destroyed along with everyone you knew, and… Keep going?”

“It wasn’t easy,” she replied. “I got really… lucky. I found Preston and the others, and they helped me. Supported me. I wasn’t alone, and having them in my life gave me the strength to keep going.”

“I think… you are doing the same for me.” His tone was tight, struggling for control. “If it weren’t for you, I don’t know that I would have the courage to keep going.”

She leaned across the distance between them, resting her cheek against his shoulder and wrapping her arm around him, squeezing him. “I love you too, bud.”

-

Preston was delighted to have Danse join their ranks, immediately placing him in charge of training all recruits. This was something Danse could grab onto, something familiar. He latched onto it with zeal, immediately fitting into the role. Edun and Preston watched over the course of several days as Danse whipped their people into shape. While not unkind, he was firm and rather merciless. Obstacle courses were set up over the surrounding land and edge of Boston. A range with targets was erected, the straw dummies clad in a motley arrangement of raider clothing and burlap sack heads painted with absurd faces. Edun was pleased to see the lightness in the recruit’s hearts. They were excited to serve, excited to learn, and already looking up to the enormous man with the commanding frown.

Desdemona had been disappointed in the news of Edun’s banishment from the Institute and tensions with the Brotherhood, but told Edun if they found a way back into the Institute, she could count on their support. Freeing those synths from the Institute would mean an insurmountable amount of work for her people, but she was willing to help however she could. Edun was grateful for the alliance. If she ended up having to go toe to toe with the Brotherhood, she would need all the allies she could get.

One evening, as they sat atop a parapet with their legs hanging over the side of the stone wall, Preston pulled her tightly against him.

“You did a good thing for him,” he told her approvingly, kissing the top of her head.

“He seems happy, doesn’t he,” she observed, watching Danse bark commands at a squad of recruits crawling on their bellies under barbed wire obstacles.

“It helps him, and it helps us,” Preston agreed. “Hell of a thing to find out. Imagine waking up one day and finding out you’re not… you.” 

“Do you think we’re ready to take on the Institute? I’m worried the Brotherhood is going to beat us there. According to Danse, those Mark 28 Nukes he secured for them were one of the last things they needed. They’re close to finishing that robot of theirs, and once they do…”

Preston gave her a squeeze. “Well, I do have good news for you, actually. Sturges wants to meet with us. He thinks he found a way into the Institute.” 

“Why didn’t you lead with that?” She exclaimed, pulling away from him.

“I was enjoying the cuddle,” he confessed, eyes shining wickedly.

Somewhat appeased, she nestled back into him. “Fine. Let’s meet with Sturges. Right after Danse makes them climb the ropes again. I bet you five caps the skinny ginger kid makes it up first.”

“Ten caps, and you’re on. But my money’s on the ghoul. She’s a fighter.”

A Minuteman approached them, clearing his throat politely. Preston turned and looked up at the man.

“What is it, Andy?”

“There’s a visitor at the gate. She’s insisting she speak with Edun, sir,” Andy reported.

“Who is it?” Edun felt herself suddenly on edge.

“She wouldn’t say. Just told me she needed to speak with you urgently. Should I turn her away?” Andy asked.

“No,” Edun shook her head. “I’ll come see what it’s all about. No cheating, Preston. I want to know who reaches the top first.”

He let her go reluctantly, flashing her a grin before turning his attention back to the suffering recruits below. Edun followed Andy down the stairs and towards the gate. She almost didn’t recognize the woman standing there. She was slender and short, hair stuffed under a bent straw hat. She wore grubby coveralls over a loose striped shirt. Her boots were muddy and dusty, and she did not look up from staring at them until Edun approached.

“Haylen,” Edun exclaimed, stunned. She had never seen the woman out of uniform. “What are you doing here? Won’t someone be looking for you?”

“Edun,” the young woman’s face lost much of its tension. “It’s… a long story. Can I come in? I feel a little exposed out here.”

“Of course,” Edun placed an arm around Haylen’s shoulders and escorted her across the courtyard. Haylen looked haggard and tired. She was covered in dirt from the road, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Edun steered her to the room she shared with Preston, closing the door firmly behind them and gesturing for Haylen to sit in one of the chairs surrounding the command table. She placed a can of purified water in front of Haylen, which was received gratefully. 

“Did the Brotherhood turn on you, too?” Edun asked, watching her drink. “Are you… a synth as well?”

Haylen shook her head, setting the can down. “No, it’s not any of that. Though my protests over Danse did nearly land me in the brig. I just… I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t spend one more day around those people, listening to the way they spoke about Danse. Even Rhys joined it. As though Danse didn’t matter. As though his years of service were meaningless. Quinlan said… he said he’d no more mourn for Danse than he would for a broken toaster.” Anger filled Haylen’s eyes at the memory, and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the can of water. “They stationed me at the edge of the Glowing Sea to watch for him. They wanted me to betray my own commanding officer. My  _ friend.  _ A Deathclaw attacked us, and… me and the others were able to take it down, but not without casualties. I was the only one left alive. So I… rigged one of the dead soldier’s power suits to blow and ran like hell. As far as I know, they think I’m dead. You’ve seen what a blast like that can do to human remains.”

Edun had. She remembered well the crater left behind while searching for Paladin Brandis and his team. 

“So you came here,” Edun said gently.

“Yes,” Haylen nodded. “I didn’t know where else to turn. I don't… know where to go from here. All I know is I want to be wherever he is.”

Comprehension was slowly coming to Edun as she observed the woman before her. She hadn’t come all this way simply to avoid being found by her former comrades. She was here… for Danse.

“Holy shit,” Edun whispered. “You’re in love with him.”

The agony in Haylen’s eyes was all the confirmation Edun needed. “You can’t say anything,” Haylen begged. “Please. He doesn’t know, I could never… I would never… I just, I can’t do any of this without him.”

“I thought maybe you and Knight Rhys…”

Haylen gave a cold chuckle at that. “Maybe once, long ago, I hoped for such a thing. But he is pure Brotherhood. He wouldn’t let me in. Said he would not distract himself from his dedication to the order. This… thing with Danse is different. I’ve kept it a secret until now. I’ve never told anyone. He has no idea.” 

Well, that certainly explained the tension between them Edun had observed. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “You are welcome here, of course, for as long as you wish. You are under no obligation to join the Minutemen or fight for any particular cause. We’re not  _ that  _ kind of club. Though I think perhaps Danse would be pleased if you did. Would you like to see him?”

“Not like this,” Haylen grimaced. “I look and smell atrocious.” 

Edun smiled at that. “How about we draw you a bath, and I find you a change of clothes. You might have to roll up the cuffs on my jeans, but otherwise I think I can manage something decent for you.”

Haylen surprised her by reaching across the table and clasping Edun’s hands in her own. “Thank you,” she said fiercely. “You don’t know how alone I felt until now. Part of me was afraid you would turn me away.”

“I don’t know how I have such a bad reputation,” Edun sighed. “Dogmeat must be talking a lot of shit on me. Bad dog,” she chastised the ever-present canine. He gave her a disapproving sniff from his comfortable position on her bed.

Haylen gave Edun a wan smile. “Do you think there is a chance…there is something there? Between him and I?”

“It really isn’t for me to say,” Edun shrugged. “But I know that he cares about you a great deal. Sometimes that is all the kindling a fire needs to grow. Preston and I were close friends, until one day… we were more than that. You can ask him yourself, once we get you cleaned up.” Edun stood, but Haylen caught her arm.

“If the Brotherhood realizes I’ve defected…If they figure out I’m alive...you could be in serious danger.”

“I would no more hand you over to them than I would Danse,” Edun reassured her. “You’re one of us now, even if you never pick up a gun again. We protect our own.”

Haylen looked relieved, and stood to follow Edun. The first thing Edun had done was rip out the old utilitarian shower in their bathroom, replacing it with a porcelain tub. She cranked the faucet on, set out a towel and a change of clothing for Haylen, and gestured the woman inside. While Haylen cleaned up, Edun flopped onto the bed beside Dogmeat and buried her cheek in his fur.

“Who would have thunk it, huh babybiscuits? Our little Scribe Haylen has the hots for the big scary Danse. I’m turning into quite the matchmaker.” Dogmeat responded by licking her eyebrow, and Edun chuckled in disgust and wiped at the slobber. Her fingers strayed, examining the pathways of scar tissue they knew so well. She paused, surprised. Beneath her fingertips she could feel soft, fine hairs. She rose from the bed, striding over to her mirror, and leaned in close for a better examination. Her hair was coming back in, sprouting from among the softening scar tissue. In time, it appeared, she would regain much of what had been lost. She touched it again, marveling, and realized the scarring on her face looked a little better as well. The lines were not as harsh as she remembered them to be, softer and more pliant beneath her probing fingers. They were no longer dark pink, but fading to a color more akin to that of her healthy skin. When had it begun to change?

“Dogmeat, would you look at that?” She breathed, for the first time since her accident not hating the image in the mirror. “I’ll be looking like Sophia Loren in no time.” A chuckle followed that statement, and she straightened again, a small smile remaining on her lips. 


	47. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before the big confrontation! :D

Edun had never seen Haylen out of uniform, and it was the first time she could mentally register how pretty the younger woman was. Her damp tawny hair was collarbone length with a wave to it, a big change from the tight bun she usually wore it in. Her wide blue eyes were framed by long, dark lashes. She had thinner lips, upturned at the corners, and a natural flush to her cheeks. If there wasn’t something there, Edun realized, there may well be when Danse saw her now. She was lovely. She was clad in a pair of Edun’s jeans and a rust colored sweater. As Edun had predicted, the cuffs of the jeans were rolled up on account of them being several inches too long in length. She gave Edun a nervous smile, patting herself as though brushing away invisible dirt.

“Do I look alright?” She asked.

“You’ve got all the makings of a true heartbreaker. Ready for this?”

Haylen nodded, eyes bright. “As ready as I will ever be. I just threw my entire life away, so…there’s not much to lose at this point, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” Edun teased, leading the way out of her quarters. There were a few curious glances as the two women passed through the Castle. Edun pulled her jacket tighter around herself. They were well into October now, and the air had the famous New England bite to it. It was nice to know the weather patterns had recovered before she crawled out of the vault. She’d hate to see a nuclear winter. She couldn’t imagine what life had been like for survivors in the years immediately following the bombs. Outside the wall, Edun looked up and could see Preston still watching the troops training. She blew him a kiss, and he made a dramatic show of nearly falling to his death trying to catch it.  _ What a nerd.  _

Danse was deep in conversation with a recruit when he sensed Edun behind him. He turned, no doubt planning to shoo her from interrupting operations, when his eyes leveled on the woman beside her. He nearly did a double take. Clearly he had not seen Haylen without her uniform and tight bun either, for his mouth actually hung open for a second before he caught himself and closed it. Edun didn’t want to cackle and ruin the moment, so she bit her tongue and waited. 

“Haylen?” He managed to choke out. “What are you  _ doing  _ here?”

“I left the Brotherhood, Danse. I couldn’t stay. Not after what they did - what they wanted to do - to you. I will not uphold the values of an organization who so easily threw you away.”

His brow furrowed, and he dismissed the recruit before turning back to her. “You threw away your career for  _ me? _ Why would you do such a thing?” 

“Why do you think?” Haylen asked softly, letting the words hang in the air.

Edun was torn between delicately tiptoeing out of there and back to the Castle or staying and being a good for nothing nosy busybody. The latter won. She watched Danse consider the question, confusion in his eyes. There must have been something in Haylen’s face, for his eyes widened as realization dawned in them. He had the decency to flush bright scarlet, at least, before stumbling over his words like a blindfolded brahmin in Diamond City Market.

“You mean you...You think of me as...You left the Brotherhood...so the time in Cambridge, that was... I never, ah, I…”

“Danse, if you don’t breathe, someone is going to have to perform CPR on you,” Edun warned. “And  _ I’d _ rather not. Preston’s watching, could get awkward.” Bless him, he blushed even brighter. Haylen took a step closer to him. 

“I wanted to tell you so many times, but… you were my commanding officer, and I knew you would never allow such a thing to happen. Not as long as you were in a position of authority over me. It wasn’t until I was running across the Commonwealth, thinking about what I’d do if I ever saw you again, that I realized I could finally tell you. If you don’t feel that way about me, I’ll understand. But I think… maybe you might. And if there’s a chance of that, then everything I left behind was worth it.”

Danse swallowed, throat bobbing nervously. “Forgive me, I’ve never... been in this position. With anyone. There has always been something there, yes, though... until this moment, I wasn’t entirely sure  _ what _ it was that I was experiencing. Could we perhaps… Discuss this at length somewhere more private?” He shot Edun a glance. She blinked innocently. “Edun is far too nosy for her own good.”

“You guys are no fun,” she sighed. “Fine, you can hash this out in the library. It’s pretty quiet in there, considering most of these folks can’t read anyway. Come, Dogmeat. Let’s go find some snacks.” 

She left the two standing awkwardly on the training grounds, fingers grazing Dogmeat’s head affectionately, a wide smirk on her face. Preston was waiting on her, anyway. They were supposed to have a discussion with Sturges about moving forward against the Institute.

-

  
  


“What have you got for us, Sturges?” Edun asked as the man began to lay out a series of carefully drawn diagrams.

“That holotape you brought back has helped a lot, boss,” he said, leaving machine oil fingerprints on the edges of each paper. He had been working tirelessly alongside the Minutemen on wiring and defenses for the castle for weeks, and seemed to be perpetually covered in grease. “Turns out, teleportin’ ain’t the only way into the Institute.”

“You mean I don’t need a giant robot to laser a hole in the ground? Well, that’s a relief.” 

Sturges nodded and went on. “You see, the Institute has over time hunkered down deeper and deeper into the earth. But there’s old areas that are still in use. Judgin’ from what I can see here, they have water piped in for cooling their reactor. If you were to access that pipeline from the Charles river, you could follow it up and through this old maintenance section. From there, you can make your way to the teleporter room.” He illustrated his point by tracing a smudgy path over the diagrams with a finger. “As for security, I reckon I couldn’t say what you might encounter. Could be a lot of old synths, or Coursers, or worse. On the other hand, they may not watch that section, feelin’ comfortable in their secrecy. They don’t know we have this data, and that gives us the advantage.”

“Even if security is light in there, they’re going to be mad as hell when we pop into the Institute and try to overload the reactor,” Edun observed. “We’re going to have to hit them with everything we’ve got.”

“A small team should be able to make it to the teleporter,” Preston said. “From there, Sturges can hijack it, and start bringing in the troops. Conversely, as you and I have discussed, anyone who wishes to leave the Institute, may do so. So long as they are peaceful, they are free to go.”

“With one exception,” Edun corrected him. “Justin Ayo is mine.”

“What are you going to do about Shaun?” He asked softly.

She bit her lip. “I’m going to… Gauge that one as I go. For now, let’s worry about getting  _ to _ the Institute and not ending up dead. Fighting the Coursers is going to be one hell of a struggle.” She really didn’t want to think about how she would deal with Shaun. His father had died under her watch. His mother had died as a result of her grief. Was Edun ready to completely end the Church family bloodline? She really didn’t know. 

“I actually have an idea about that,” Sturges interjected. “Stealth fields bend light, but they don’t alter temperature, now do they? If we outfit everyone with thermal detection, they will be able to see the Coursers via infrared. As you said, they’re the same as us, just deadlier. Which means they’re 98.7 degrees just like we are.”

“That’s a lot of people you’re talking about giving infrared to,” Edun said with a raised brow. “We don’t have time to prepare something like that.”

“Good thing I’ve been workin’ on it for some time. The idea hit me after you told us about that Courser friend of yours wipin’ out all of Libertalia. You’re gonna love this, hang on.” He rummaged around in his bag before producing a pair of green tinted glasses with a small device mounted to one side. He handed them to Edun. “Put ‘em on.”

Edun did, and was met with a view of a cold gray room and Stuges’ shape, a mix of yellow, orange, and reds. The areas closest to his heart as well as his eyes and mouth showed up red. “My god,” she exclaimed, taking them off. “We’re not just giving them the ability to see the Coursers… we’re marking vital target points in bright red.”

Sturges nodded. “Exactly. Now, I doubt I have enough for  _ everyone _ attending this gala, but… I’ve made enough that it will help in a real big way.”

Edun let out a long breath. “Holy shit, guys. This is starting to feel actually doable. We might not get massacred after all.”

“Let’s start getting everyone outfitted. You’re going to need to decide who accompanies you on the initial breach,” Preston told her. “ _ I’m _ going. That part isn’t optional.”

“Then I want RJ and Cait, too. If we’re doing this thing, I want those two wildcats at my side. They’re far scarier than either of us.”

“I will send for them immediately,” Preston promised. “We should be ready to go in two days. Is that enough time for you to wrap up whatever you need to?”

She nodded. “Yes. that’s enough time. Let’s get crackin’.”

There was much to do and plans to prepare. Magazines to load, weapons to clean and service, armor to mend. Edun and Preston stayed up late into the night, passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth and loading magazines in their underwear on the floor of the room. They ended the night in a tangle of limbs, falling asleep on the worn rug while Dogmeat took the bed. Neither of them escaped a hangover, and Edun was still nursing it late into the next morning when people began to arrive.

Cat and RJ marched into the Castle’s courtyard the following evening, and judging from RJ’s frayed expression, it had been a long and hazardous journey filled with many jokes at his expense. Cait only looked pleased with herself, and gave Edun a very loud and wet kiss on the cheek before she marched off to investigate the new stronghold. She had been off at Sanctuary all this time, keeping an eye on operations and overseeing security while all the higher-ups were busy restoring the fort.

“She made me swear. Twice.” RJ informed Edun through gritted teeth. “Not even you have managed to make me cuss, but she… I swear to god, Edun, I’m gonna skin her…”

“No you won’t,” Edun grinned. “You love her just like you love me. Hungry?” His saucer-like eyes were all the answer she needed, and she escorted him to the mess hall. The Castle was more packed than it had ever been as they mustered their best fighters for the trip to the Institute. Desdemona and Deacon had sent a handful of Railroad heavies, and Edun was pleased to see Glory among them. She had a feeling it was in spite of significant protest from Railroad leaders, but nobody loved slaying Coursers more than Glory. She would have insisted on coming. RJ pushed his way through the crowd towards the line for food, and Edun leaned against a wall and watched the goings-on unfold. She was nervous, and more than a little afraid. Seeing what one Courser could do under less than ideal circumstances was more than enough to make her worry; not only for her life, but for the lives of the brave men and women who served. One of the Minutemen, seeming rather drunk, bumped into her.

“Hey, bud, lay off the moonshine. We’ve got a big day tomorrow,” she chastised. A hand gripped her arm in a vise-like hold in response, and before Edun could properly register what was happening, she had been turned and ushered into a dark hallway. Alarm coursed through her, and she brought her knee up in a vicious strike. The Minuteman shifted out of the way easily, slamming her against the stone wall.  _ Where the hell was Dogmeat when she wanted an ankle bitten? No doubt crawling around under the tables looking for scraps.  _ She attempted to twist away, but found herself lacking enough strength to dislodge the man.

“Please stop attempting to fight me, Edun. You will damage yourself.” She froze at the words, going limp in the iron hands gripping her.

“X6? Is that you?” She hissed.

“I do not have long. Only moments. If I am gone too long, I will be missed.” He tipped his worn tricorn hat back, and Edun recognized him immediately. His eyes, black as pitch, shone in the dim light from the hall beyond. 

“Why the hell are you dressed like that?” Edun demanded. “And for that matter, where did you get the clothing? You didn’t… harm anyone, did you?”

“I did not,” his voice had no inflection of guilt. “Somewhere out in the Commonwealth, one of your men will finish bathing to find his clothing missing from the bushes he laid them out upon. He will have a rather cold and humiliating walk back to camp, but is otherwise unharmed.”

“Why the subterfuge? What are you doing here? Are you here to… kill me?” Dread filled her at the thought.

“I am here to offer my assistance,” he told her. He pressed something into her hand, and Edun looked down at it dumbly. It was a small piece of paper, with a recall code written on it.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked, not comprehending. 

“You will know when the time comes,” he said cryptically. “Now, for the second matter...When you get into the Institute, you must know that there are those of us who have decided we do not wish to fight for the Institute. We would go in peace, and live out our lives aboveground.”

“You… What? Really?” she asked. Suspicion tempered her relief. “How do I know you won’t just… wreak havoc, or hurt the synths we free?”

“That would be a rather illogical thing to do,” his tone was almost disdainful, as though surprised she would ask such a thing. “We see your overtaking of the Institute as an inevitability, and though we are creations made to serve, we do not see our masters as fit to die for. We would choose our own destiny.”

“Do you want the Railroad to integrate you? Because that might be a hard sell. I don’t think they’d trust a handful of Coursers farther than they could throw them.”

“Why would we wish to erase the things that make us who we are?” He shook his head.  “No. We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves. All we want is our freedom. We will aid you in your fight, if you will agree to let us walk, unharmed.”

“How will we be able to tell you apart from the ones who would still fight us?” She asked carefully.

He contemplated this, before his lips curved into a sardonic little smile. “We will be the ones who aren't firing at you.”

“Well gee, if I’d known a revolution was all it would take to loosen you guys up, I’d have done this sooner,” she rolled her eyes.

“Then we have an agreement?” He cocked his head, awaiting her answer.

“We do. I’m… pretty relieved, honestly. I really didn’t want to fight you. I’m kind of fond of you, big guy.”

“And I you,” his simple words stunned her. “When this is over, and the deed is done… If you would allow it, I would like to see more of the Commonwealth with you. I would fight at your side again.”

“Only if you promise I can get you drunk. Just once.”

He eyed her for a long moment, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Very well. Just once.”

“Then I guess… We will see you on the battlefield.”

“Until then, Edun. Get some rest. You’ve got quite the endeavor ahead of you.”

He released her, moving rapidly out into the crowd of bodies and disappearing amongst them once more. Edun rushed to the doorway, but he was already gone. One more blue duster and tricorn among a crowd of many. Preston spied her from across the crowded mess hall, and wove his way through the sea of excited Minutemen to her. He leaned in close, his voice raised to carry over the din of laughter and chatter.

“Edun, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“I think I just did,” she replied. “Tell you about it over a couple beers? I want to get out of here before I suffocate.”

He answered by taking her hand in his warm one, tugging her towards their quarters. On her way out, Edun took note of Danse and Haylen tucked away in the corner, faces close, laughing and sharing drinks.


	48. In a Minute’s Notice

“You’ve got to be fookin’ kiddin’ me,” Cait squawked, watching as Edun climbed onto the rock wall overlooking the Charles river. “Nobody said anythin’ about goin’ for a swim.”

“Afraid of little water?” RJ sneered. “I thought you weren’t afraid of  _ anything _ .”

“I’m not afraid to give you a good smackin’ around, you mangy little mercenary.” Cait put her hands up threateningly.

“I’m about to drown both of you,” Edun raised her voice enough to be heard over the squabbling.

“I’ll help,” Preston agreed. It had been nonstop all the way from the Castle. The group was standing over the area where Sturges told them the entrance to the pipe would be, though he had neglected to mention it was about eight feet below the surface of the water. Edun hoped her theory was correct, and that the pipe would open up into somewhere with air. Otherwise, this endeavor was going to be a waste. Her plan was to go first, scout the tunnel, and then radio Preston to follow with RJ and Cait. She regretted having to leave Dogmeat. He was back at the Castle, pouting at Haylen’s heels.

“Are you sure your gear won’t drag you down?” Preston asked her worriedly. “Maybe you should remove all the body armor.” He sounded serious, but Edun saw the wicked gleam in his eyes and snorted.

“Save it for later, Garvey. Not in front of the children.”

“ _ Eugh _ , get a room, you two,” RJ groaned.

“They tried, but you and Ellie were already in it. K-i-s-s-i-n-g,” Cait taunted.

_ “Cait,” _ Edun groaned. She was beginning to sincerely regret bringing the two of them along. She turned back to Preston. “If you don’t hear from me in two minutes, drown those morons in the river on my behalf. It’s my final wish.” Before he could reply, she dove into the freezing water of the Charles River. It was far colder than she had expected, and it was all she could do to keep the air in her lungs at the impact of it against her body. She managed to orient herself in the direction of the pipe and swam towards it, muscles stiffening in the cold depths. She kicked her legs hard, finally reaching the mouth of the tunnel. There was a current here, as water from the Charles flowed into the pipe. She let it take hold of her, releasing her grip on the tunnel’s edge. Her lungs were starting to burn, and she hoped she could hold out before her head broke the surface again. Things seemed to be going somewhat in her favor, for the pipe dumped her out into a large antechamber. She gave a grateful gasp as she rose to the surface, wiping the water from her eyes and looking around. The chamber was empty. No guards, no turrets. She felt her boots touch bottom, and slogged her way out of the water and up the stairs leading out of it.

She depressed the button on her radio. “Preston?”

_ “Edun.” _ Relief in his voice.  _ “Have a good swim?” _

“It’s safe. Took about a minute to get down here. Colder than a witch's tit, though.”

_ “We will see you in one minute, then. Time to get soggy.”  _

She waited, and a short time later Preston’s head and shoulders emerged from the murky water, followed by Cait and then RJ. They joined her at the top of the stairs, shaking water from their ears and squeezing it from their damp clothes. They took a few minutes to take stock of things, checking their weapons and reloads. There was no telling what would be in the tunnels ahead, but Edun had insisted on laser weapons only for this trip. They were more effective in battle. Especially against synths. Edun fished her special glasses out of her pack and put them on. The others followed suit. If they bumped into any living thing down here, the glasses would warn them in advance.

The glasses certainly did come in handy, for as they made their way through the ancient tunnels, there were feral ghouls and rad roaches infesting the place. Laser turrets were mounted throughout as well, and those were not something the infrared could pick up. The Institute had not left this area entirely unguarded, it would seem. The turrets were there to ensure no wandering ghoul or wayward wastelander ventured into places they had no business being. Edun kept an uneasy eye out for cameras, but nobody had deemed video surveillance down here as necessary. The Institute was smug in their technology, sure of themselves. They had no idea their security was breached; their secrets in the hands of the Minutemen, Railroad,  _ and  _ Brotherhood. Edun figured if the Minutemen failed, the Brotherhood could pick up where she left off. One way or another, the Institute would no longer be allowed to prey on the people of the Commonwealth.

Edun wasn’t sure how far they had gone, but voices ahead made her freeze and drop low. Seeing her reaction, the others followed suit. Edun crawled forward in a crouch, peering through broken window panes. Several synths were in the room beyond, working on a repair. Edun checked side to side. The small team seemed to be it, and they were only Gen 2. She eased the door open and crept along the platform until she had a clear view. She fired, the light of the laser rounds bright through the infrared lenses. When she lowered her rifle, the synths were in a smoking pile of limbs. The tools they had been holding were scattered around them. Edun stood and walked down the corrugated steps. Beyond the synths, there was a tunnel. It was empty, dry, and looked more like an access point than a channel for water. She pulled Sturges’ hand-drawn diagram from its plastic bag inside her coat and examined it carefully. If she was looking at this right, that tunnel led up to the teleporter control room. 

“Be ready for anything,” Edun warned her team as she stepped into the tunnel. “For all we know, they could be waiting for us inside.”

They proceeded up the tunnel with weapons raised, but met no further resistance. Preston insisted on climbing through the hatch first, clearing the control room before helping Edun and the others through. Edun looked around. The control room and teleporter were empty. Preston clicked on his radio and spoke into it.

“Sturges? Stand by for relay. Have everyone get into position.” 

Edun made her way over to the control terminal and loaded Sturges’ relay targeting sequence. After a couple minutes, the first flashes of the relay lit up the teleporter room as Sturges and the others began to appear. 

“I’ll take over from here, boss,” Sturges told her, politely nudging her out of the way with a hip. Edun snorted and moved out of the way. She had worked with Sturges enough to know better than get in his way. Minutemen began to fill the small control room, as well as the handful of Railroaders led by Glory. It was getting crowded fast.

“Ready to take this party on the road?” Preston asked her. “We’re running out of room in here.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Leave five of our best here to watch over Sturges. We don’t know if they will send anyone after him once we’ve cleared out.”

Preston nodded agreement and gave a few orders. With the control room secured, it was time to make the push through the old Robotics wing. Edun and Preston led the charge, boots thudding on the tarnished metal stairs. The maintenance section might have been all but abandoned, but old Robotics was full of Gen 1 and 2 synths. They were older models, nowhere near as well-maintained as the others found within the Institute’s newer sections. Their acrylic body panels were damaged or missing, their joints whirred and creaked from lack of use, but despite appearances they could still operate weapons effectively. Further in, they ran into serious resistance. There were far more Gen 2s, and Edun and her team had to resort to firing around corners and tossing grenades until they gained the upper hand. Alarms blared, and red lights flashed their warning from where they were mounted on the high walls. The Institute definitely knew they were here.

The Atrium was in an uproar. People and synths alike were running, panicked. Edun felt regretful at causing such distress, but it was necessary. Security synths were responding to the ruckus, and immediately upon entering the atrium, Edun and her people were pinned down by heavy fire. 

“Remember some of the Coursers are friendlies! If they’re firing on the enemy rather than us, they’re the good guys. Verify your targets before shooting!” Preston yelled over the din. 

“Edun, ya’ll copy?” Sturges’ voice came over the radio.

  
  


“Sturges, we copy. What’s going on?”

“The reactor is accessible through Advanced Systems, but there’s a problem. The whole place is on security lockdown. If you don’t get the lockdown lifted, we’re gonna be in a boat on a lake with no paddles. There’s a terminal in the Director’s office that should allow you to lift the lockdown as well as send out an emergency evacuation order. Looks like there’s a way into his office via the elevator. That much I can unlock for you.”

“I can do that,” Edun acknowledged reluctantly. “Going there now.”

Preston frowned at her, analyzing the look on her face. “No. You’re not going alone.”

“I can and I am. This is about more than lifting the lockdown. I’ve got unfinished business with him.”

“Edun, there are synths and Coursers everywhere. You won’t make it ten feet.”

She gave him a wry little smile. “Watch me.” And flipped on her Institute stealth device. She heard his exasperated sigh before he turned back to the fight at hand. She slipped into the Institute elevator and pressed the button to go down. If Shaun was waiting for her with a loaded gun, at least she had the stealth device. 

The hallway leading to his office was silent, and Edun stepped as quietly as possible, Righteous Authority raised and ready to fire. She had pushed the infrared glasses back up onto her head. She wanted her own eyes for this confrontation. She took the steps carefully, and as her head cleared the stairwell she could see the rigid line of Shaun’s shoulders. He stood with his back to her, hands clasped behind him. 

“I know you’re there,” he said softly. “I am unarmed. There is no need to hide.”

Keeping Righteous Authority trained on him, she flipped off the stealth device. Shaun turned slowly to look at her. He didn’t look well. He looked tired, haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes as though sleep had long eluded him.

“We meet again,” Edun gave him a mirthless little smile.

“Tell me, Edun...What exactly do you plan to do? Set our reactor to blow and kill everyone inside the Institute? Is mass murder really the sort of thing you would stoop to?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that same question?” Edun asked. “If I added up all the casualties of the Institute’s dealings, I imagine it would fill a far greater grave.”

“You are no different than the people of the Commonwealth. You respond to that which you do not understand with unreasonable fear and suspicion,” he snapped. “All you have done is cause a mild setback. You and your Minutemen are little better than a mosquito biting at an elephant’s hide. We will be here long after this pathetic incursion fails.”

“We won’t fail. We are already inside your walls, if you haven’t noticed. Once I’m done with you, I’ll lift that security lockdown and put an end to all of this.”

“Your insistence on believing in a motley band of farmers will be your undoing,” he sighed. “It didn’t have to be this way. You could have been happy here. Long after my death, you would have had the entirety of the Institute at your disposal.”

“I don’t need your grown up toybox to be happy,” Edun scoffed. “Building an army of slave synths isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“I’m sorry, Edun.” He regarded her with genuine sorrow. She warred with herself, finger over the trigger and finding it difficult to pull. She was still struggling to make the decision when something hard struck her from behind. Pain exploded from the base of her skull as she crumpled. The last thing she saw was a pair of black combat boots walking into view.

-

Edun’s face was cold. The sensation of it creeping into her skin, chilling her to the bone, was what woke her first. She was shivering. She lifted her head slowly, wincing at the pain following the movement, and tasted metal in her mouth. When she’d been struck, she must have bitten her tongue. It was tender and raw where her teeth had savaged it. The scraping of metal on metal snapped her to complete lucidity, and she bolted upright and cursed. She was in the little interrogation room Ayo had once dragged her to. Snapped around each wrist and ankle were those same goddamn steel shackles he had tried to lock her into once before. She yanked at them, knowing full well they would not budge. How many innocent people had sat where she was now, had their limbs restrained while they waited for their jailers to appear and interrogate them? Is that what this was? They wanted to wrangle the last of the information they needed out of her, so they could replace her?

How long had she been out? Were her people still in the Atrium, fighting wave after wave of synths and Coursers? Or were they...  _ No.  _ She couldn’t think about that. Preston was out there, and Cait… and RJ… oh, god, if anything had happened to them she couldn’t bear it. She yanked at the restraints again and again, letting out an angry and hoarse scream at the clink of the chains. She’d already tried the removing-her-own-hand trick once before. She didn’t think she could pull it off here. She didn’t even have a bobby pin. Her infrared glasses were gone. Her body armor was gone. She was stripped down to a tee shirt and underwear, and the chair she sat on was cold as well.

She knew intimidation tactics when she saw them. This uninviting room, the manacles, the frigid temperature. A camera on the ceiling blinked red, recording her. Now that she was awake, they would let her sweat. Not literally, unfortunately. They wanted her to worry, wanted fear to well up in her until it was a tide sweeping over her head, drowning her. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She stuck her tongue out at the camera, sure Ayo’s beady little eyes were watching her as she did it. He must be enjoying this, finally having her where he wanted her. No X6-88 or Shaun’s good graces to protect her now. She lay her head back down on the cold metal table, willing herself to close her eyes and focus on something else. Anything else but the current predicament she found herself in. She thought about Preston, his calloused fingers brushing over her skin and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when she made him laugh. She thought about Dogmeat’s warm fur beneath her fingers, or how his tongue made her fingers all slimy while she fed him bites of snack cakes. She thought about drinking beers with Cait and belting out verse after verse of 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. She thought about how RJ and Ellie would look on their wedding day.

She let the thoughts envelop her like a warm bath, allowing herself to slip into them and the gentle arms of sleep. If the Institute wanted to fuck with her, they were welcome to try. They’d have to wake her up first.

She sensed the presence of someone in the room before she opened her eyes again. She lifted her head once more, her neck stiff and sore from the angle it had been kept at. As expected, Ayo had appeared. He leaned back in a metal chair across from her, thin mouth twisted in a derisive smile. 

“How good of you to join us again,” he sneered. “I was beginning to think you were concussed.”

She feigned a yawn. “Is there a reason you are interrupting my nap?”

“Don’t play games, Edun. We aren’t doing things on your terms anymore. Father has left you to me.”

She snorted. “Why? So I can tell you what my favorite board game is and what wine I prefer with steak? Good luck with all that.”

“Oh, we have moved far beyond such things.” He leaned forward, though not close enough for her to reach him if she wanted. “Your friends are gone. Once they realized we could snap your neck  _ in a minute’s notice,  _ they left willingly. I suppose you were too great of a sacrifice for them to make. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Yeah, I’m real popular. I guess it’s my winning personality.” So, the others had gone. That meant they were alive, at least. Relief flooded through her. That was the only thing that mattered. The Institute could do what they wanted to her. Couldn’t be worse than the beating Eggs gave her. No doubt they would keep her as a prisoner for as long as it took to ensure they were truly secure from the risk of another incursion. They would learn from their mistake with the cooling tunnel. The real question was… What had happened to the Coursers who wanted to help? Or had that been a trick? The thought of X6-88 deceiving her made her stomach turn. If that were the case, she had played into Institute hands. That didn’t make sense, though. For one, there was the recall code he had given her. Rather than keep it on her, she memorized it. Easier to keep your memory dry in a cooling tunnel. She just didn’t know what it meant. Not yet. Was it  _ his  _ code, in case he was forced to betray her in the end?

“Father knew you’d want to face him alone. It was the one thing he was sure we could count on. You’re always playing fair, always wanting to do  _ the right thing _ . He was correct, as always. You walked right into the trap. As soon as you tripped the silent alarm down in the old maintenance wing, we knew you were coming. From there, it was just a matter of waiting patiently for you to find your way into the Atrium.” He grinned, then, baring somewhat yellowed teeth. “The second part of the plan was counting on that sweet boyfriend of yours to also do the  _ right _ thing, ordering his men to pull back rather than face losing you. How amusing, that the two most self-righteous people in the Commonwealth managed to find love.”

“Well, it has been rather lovely. I suppose you can’t relate. The only woman you’ve loved in your life is one named Rosy Palms.”

She smirked and watched Ayo struggle to grasp the joke. Once he did, fury sparked in his eyes and he slammed a fist down on the table. “Enough,” he snapped. He stood, shoving his chair away violently. Edun didn’t flinch, only leaned back and winked at him.

“Afraid to hit a girl, Justin?” 

She saw through his bravado and misplaced confidence. They had been scared. The Minutemen had posed a very real threat, and if not for her predictability, there would not  _ be  _ an Institute anymore. They would have succeeded. 

He laughed, a thin and reedy sound that matched his appearance. “Afraid? Hardly. Without your friends to back you up, and with restraints binding you… you are far from a formidable opponent, Edun. You’re just another animal blindly reacting on instinct. You will be put down like a stupid beast, as well. But not until I’ve pulled every bit of information of value out of you. You see, I think you know a lot about the pestilential Railroad. And I think perhaps you’ve got some intel on the Brotherhood, too. Once those tunnels are sealed and our position is once more secured, you and I are going to have a nice chat.” He strode out of the room, refusing to acknowledge her soft laughter as it followed him out.

Hours passed. Edun’s body began to complain. She needed to pee. She was hungry. There was a throbbing lump on the back of her head that was making her yearn for a stimpack about now. Either they were setting up a torture chamber for her or they planned to bore her to death. She was essentially a glorified political prisoner now, left here to grow moss while the Institute fortified the only way in or out. She couldn’t imagine what Preston must be feeling right now. He would be angry, but in the quiet way he always got when he was upset. Preston never lashed out, never yelled or struck walls. He approached everything, good or bad, with that same reserved intellect. It was what made him a good leader, a kind and considerate lover, and such an empathetic and generous friend. Thinking of him made her heart ache, and she closed her eyes and feigned sleep lest whoever was watching the Late Night Show starring Edun Kowalski see emotion on her face. She wouldn’t let them see her cry. She reserved that sort of thing for Preston’s presence.

At long last, the door opened again. Edun raised her head, the effort feeling laborious. There was nobody there, only an empty hallway. Now they were pretending to be ghosts to fuck with her? She lowered her head back to the table, wondering if you could develop bed sores on your face from a steel table.

“Do not react to my voice,” a low whisper from the hallway. “If you react, someone might notice on the camera. Keep your head down and listen. Blink if you understand me.”

She blinked. She recognized the voice. It was X6-88’s.

“Your friends are safe. Once Father had you as a hostage to hold over them, they fell back and teleported out of the Institute. They plan on killing you once they finish sealing up the tunnels through Maintenance. Though...It will not be a quick death. Father told Ayo to do whatever he wished with you, and I am sure by now you are aware of the fact that he holds a grudge against you. I have been monitoring your friends as best I can, and there has been significant movement from the Brotherhood of Steel. It would seem General Garvey has enlisted their help, and they plan to move on the Institute to break you out of here and destroy everything. When the attack begins, everyone will be distracted and respond to it. That will be your window for escape. You will only have one chance for this. Do not hesitate, and do not waste what you are given.”

The air shimmered, and she realized he was approaching her under stealth. Something scraped against the surface of the table, and as though out of nowhere, a small silver key appeared near her face.

“Good luck, Edun.” 

The shimmer in the air retreated, and the door swung closed again. Feigning despair, Edun pressed her face to the table and let her hair fall around her in a concealing curtain of greasy tresses. She used her tongue and teeth to pick up the key and stowed it in her cheek, near the back by her molars. That would be a good hiding place for it until show time. As long as nobody electrocuted her, anyway.

She had no concept of time in her cell. Eventually, a Gen 2 synth appeared with a bucket and a ration pack. Clearly Ayo wasn’t quite ready to give her the axe after all. She was too relieved to feel embarrassed over pissing in a metal bucket in front of the blank eyes of a Gen 2, and ate the proffered ration pack with zeal. She ate it in large chunks, swallowing them and nearly choking, out of fear if she chewed she might swallow the little silver key. It was all she had. The only way out. She had hope, now. X6-88 had not let her down, had not betrayed her. He had simply been unable to act. She had forced him into a plan B by being stupid and going after Shaun alone. She had a tendency to be stupid. It was one of her personal flaws, right up there with being nosy and feeding junk food to dogs. 


	49. To Bear a Name

Edun didn’t know what sign she was expecting, but tremors shaking the entire facility hadn’t been the expected herald of the Brotherhood’s arrival. _Oh yeah,_ she thought. _They have a giant robot loaded with laser beams and Mark 28s. They weren’t exactly planning to knock._ More tremors vibrated through the floor at her feet, and she heard shouts and running feet as the Institute staff responded to the assault. She didn’t know if anyone was still sitting and watching her on camera, but there was no time. Either she moved now, or waited for them to come drag her out of here to parade as collateral again. She stood, leaning over the manacle on her right hand, and retrieved the key from its hiding place. Clenching it tightly in her teeth, she inserted it into the lock of the manacle, turning her head as far to the left as it would go. It took some cajoling, but eventually she was rewarded with a soft _click_ and the manacle releasing. If being one-armed had done anything for her, it had given her better dexterity and control with her mouth.

With her right hand freed, unlocking the rest was simple. She was unarmed, dirty, exhausted, and hungry… but damn it, she was going to fuck some shit up on her way out. The interrogation room door was unlocked, kept open for Ayo to wander in and annoy her at leisure. She opened the large steel door and peeked out. SRB was largely empty, save for a Gen 2 synth standing with its back to her. It held a laser rifle in one hand. Moving stealthily, she approached the synth while pulling her undershirt up and over her head. For some reason, she seemed to end up half-naked in the Institute a lot more often than should be considered normal. Once she was close enough, she rose up on her toes and pulled the undershirt down over the synth’s eyes, pulling it and twisting it tight, before giving the Gen 2’s head a vicious yank. The synth’s head was nearly on backwards, now, and another twist finished severing the connection. She threw the disembodied head over her shoulder and retrieved the laser rifle from twitching mechanical fingers.

Her next stop was the Courser supply room. She slipped into one of the sleek black leather jackets and a solid pair of boots, before putting on a tactical belt and loading it full of grenades and spare energy cells. She was as ready as she was ever going to be. Outside of SRB, she heard the chatter of gunfire and heavy thudding footsteps. She knew that sound. It was the sound of power armor on the march. The cavalry had arrived. She would leave them to it. _She_ had unfinished business. A door shuttered behind her, and Edun whirled, bringing her laser rifle to bear. Through the crosshairs of the reflex sight, she saw Justin Ayo’s startled and simultaneously terrified face. She must look a fright, stringy hair hanging over her face and clad in a Courser’s jacket.

“How did you--” he began, but she didn’t give him time to get the rest out. She shot him in the left kneecap. Ayo screamed, his legs trying to buckle, and fell against the wall in an attempt to stay upright. _“You crazy bitch,”_ he screeched, hand reaching for his pistol. She shot him in the hand, and he wailed again as the laser round left a smoking hole through his palm, severing the nerves and tendons controlling his fingers.

“I thought we could have that _little chat_ now. If you’re not busy,” Edun sneered. He stared at her, pupils blown wide and white showing all around his irises.

“ _Please_ , Father made me, you have to believe me. I meant no harm,” he spluttered, sobbing now. Edun noticed with mild interest there was a dark stain spreading down the crotch of his pretty white jumpsuit. She shot him in the right kneecap, and he toppled to the ground, his scream taking on the timbre of a terrified child.

“You know, Ayo, lying here like this… without your friends to back you up, and missing your kneecaps… you’re hardly a formidable enemy. You’re just a _stupid animal reacting on instinct._ ” She walked over to him, stood over him with the barrel of the laser rifle aimed between his eyes. “And you will be put down like the beast you are.”

“No... please,” he moaned, eyes squeezing shut and a snot bubble expanding from one nostril. She fired, and the twitching and sobbing came to a stop once the laser burned a smoking hole through the soft tissue of his brain.

“Goodbye, Justin.” She spat on him, leaned down and took his key card, and stepped away from the spreading pool of blood from his various injuries. The key card would gain her special access through doors despite the security lockdown. One down, one to go. She was no longer conflicted on the issue of Shaun. Whatever he had been to her, he was now the man who had given Ayo leave to torture and murder her. There would be no hesitation the second time around. 

The Atrium was lit up with laser fire, gunshots, and blasts from grenades. The lovely and once pristine area was marred by the second assault in as many days, blast marks and bullet holes riddling the place. Brotherhood soldiers and Minutemen were spread out, and judging from the retreating synths, definitely had the upper hand in this fight. From SRB she turned right, staying low and running and ducking as she made her way past Robotics. She could see Preston from across the Atrium, firing on a Courser that was dragging an injured leg. He was alive. _He was okay_. He was here for her. She would not distract him from the fight. He needed to stay focused, and seeing her as she was would only pull his heart out of things. His first instinct would be to get her to safety.

Ayo’s keycard beeped, and the door to the section containing Shaun’s quarters opened. She stepped inside, the door shuttering closed immediately behind her. She didn’t think she would ever be here again, walking up the white stairs spiraling their way to the top. Until X6-88’s appearance, she had fully expected to die in this cold and empty place. She kept her laser rifle ready, scanning back and forth with it and checking her six periodically. Like hell she would be letting anyone sneak up on her again. There were a couple Gen 2 synths patrolling the hallway, and she exchanged fire with them for a minute before they were downed. She waited for further response, but there was nothing. She supposed it made sense. He wasn’t expecting her to crawl out of the hole he had thrown her into.

She opened the door to his quarters and entered cautiously, keeping her back to the wall and her rifle raised. The office loft was empty. She made a mental note of her personal possessions piled neatly on the plush white couch. Her jumpsuit was folded carefully, the pip boy resting atop it along with her Swiss Army knife and infrared glasses. Seeing her things here just pissed her off more. Why keep them? Did he plan to adorn a mannequin with them and dance with it?

She eyed his terminal. There was still time to sound the evacuation notice. Perhaps she would be lucky, and the Brotherhood wouldn’t murder everyone. Maybe brahmin could fly. You never knew, miracles could happen. There was movement to the left, something shifting beyond the doorway to Shaun’s bedroom. She coiled, ready to fire. She wanted to see his face before she put a hole through it. She wanted him to know she had escaped, and that he had failed. They were beyond talking, beyond a conversation now. But the vengeful part of her wanted this moment to hurt him.

The figure that stepped out into the office area was not Shaun. It was... herself, but different somehow. Edun felt herself unconsciously lowering her rifle, mouth open in shock as she stared at her twin. Much was identical. The twin’s hair was cleaner, shinier, much better kept. It hung to just beyond her collarbones, gleaming and silken. The skin tone was right, down to the sun-kissed bronze with a smattering of freckles. Her lips were equally full, her eyes uplifted just a little at the outer corners. She was not as slender as Edun, her body softer and better-fed. The body of a woman who lacked for nothing. She wore a sleek black outfit not unlike a vault suit in its design, tailored to fit her. Edun’s eyes roamed down. _Black combat boots._ Son of a bitch. This copy of her was the one who had beaned her before. The synth smiled at Edun, lips parting to reveal even, gleaming white teeth. Too perfect. Her hazel eyes flashed with something like warning. A wolf promising to bite any hand that was offered. The most glaringly obvious difference was the lack of scars. Edun’s twin had a perfectly smooth and unblemished face. She looked as Edun had, before the accident. It really, _really_ pissed Edun off. She hadn’t wanted him to change her, so he changed her clone.

“Holy shit,” Edun breathed. “They did it. They really fucking did it. It doesn’t get any creepier than this. I think I’d prefer a mannequin wearing my clothes.”

Her twin let out a low chuckle. “You’re funny. Father said you were. He often tells me I am lacking your wit, though I imagine much of it has come from your... coarse way of living.”

“I’m sure he has a lot to say about me,” Edun said mildly, tightening her grip on the laser rifle. “Probably has a bunch of notes and pictures taped to a wall, too, along with a lock of my hair.”

Her twin ran fingers idly through her own hair, the strands slipping between them like water. “Thanks to you, he has me. I suppose in a way we _are_ a family.”

“You realize this is completely fucked, right? If you’re anything like me, you wouldn’t stay here as his little pet. Please tell me they programmed a conscience into you.”

“They left out many of your imperfections.” Her twin’s eyes roamed over Edun’s face pointedly. “I am an improvement upon the original, clearly.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Edun groaned. “First Ayo and now an evil twin? I’ve had enough of this place for a lifetime. You’ve been used, Twinsie. He wanted me, and when he couldn’t have that, he threw a grown up tantrum and made himself a life-sized toy. I don’t know if you think you love him or what, but if you do, it’s not real. You no more love him than he loves you. Mark my words, it would have come to an end eventually. He doesn’t see synths as human. He might have copied me, but you are no more human to him than a pair of house slippers. You are a slave here, just as the rest of your kind are. When you fail to mimic me the way he wants you to, he will throw you away.”

“You’re wrong!” the synth snapped, rage flashing in her eyes.

“Am I?” Edun snorted. “What does he call you?”

Her twin blinked. “I am designated X1-77.”

Realization flooded through Edun. _The recall code._ It was _X1-77 Theta-5-Kilo_ . _She_ was the reason X6-88 had slipped her this information. Edun weighed her options. She could issue the code now, and put an end to this. Something in her whispered it would be the wrong choice. She felt responsible for the woman who stood before her, wearing her own face.

“He didn’t even give you a _name_.” Edun softened her voice. “He slapped a product label on you, just as he did every other synth. And do you know why? Because names are human. They grant us our individuality, make us more than a number or a designation. To bear a name is to be humanized. He could have called you Edun, after me, or let you pick a name for yourself… but instead you are a serial number. A stamp on the bottom of an appliance. That’s how important you are to him. He’s a sick man, Twinsie. And not just because of the cancer. He’s sick in his head and his heart as well, and you are as much a victim here as I am.”

_“No!”_ X1 yelled, shaking her head violently, as though the act would dislodge Edun’s words. “He told me you would try to alter my opinion. He warned me about this. He loves me, I _know_ he does.” There was real heartbreak in X1’s voice, and Edun felt her heart go out to the woman. She had been manipulated from the moment she was created, all to suit a dying man’s fantasy. Before Edun could say more, X1 went into stealth. Edun threw herself out of the way just in time, the soft footfalls of boots her only warning as the synth charged at her. Her laser rifle went spinning across the smooth floor. She snatched the infrared glasses from their perch atop her belongings, putting them on and pivoting again. She felt air swish past her face as she narrowly avoided a vicious kick to the head. The world was gray now, save for spots of yellow and the shifting molten form of X1 as she charged at Edun again.

X1 was fast. She was not like the synths left to mop hallways or wash windows. The X in her designation was a warning in itself, for only Courser designations began with an X. Edun was weaker, human, her reflexes a poor match for X1’s skill, but she had an advantage in one thing. She was calm, collected, while X1 was emotional and angry. Her identity had been challenged, her existence called into doubt, and it made her sloppy in the way a sharp knife is when waved frantically in a fight. Threatening, but chaos removing much of the danger. Edun dodged, feinted, and jabbed. Her time in the Commonwealth had left her a far more able foe than she had been during the war, complacent in her comfortable pilot’s seat. She knew it was only a matter of time before the glasses were knocked from her head and she was fighting blind again. She needed to damage the stealth device around X1’s wrist.

X1 struck out at Edun, and Edun used the woman’s momentum against her. She grabbed her arm, dropped to one knee, and vaulted the synth over her lowered form. X1 slammed onto the floor before Edun, air rushing from her lungs in a gasp at the impact. Edun didn’t waste a second. She rose and brought her boot down hard on X1’s wrist and the stealth device around it. There was a sound like crunching metal, and X1 howled in pain as her stealth field failed. The device was damaged, though X1’s wrist appeared to remain intact. She twisted and vaulted to her feet, catching Edun across the jaw with a hard left hook. Edun staggered back, spitting blood, fists raised defensively. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Edun said, blocking a blow aimed at her stomach. “Killing me won’t change anything. He will still be a creepy old man, and you will still be a slave. _Let me help you.”_

X1’s only answer was a sweeping kick, intended to take Edun off her feet. Edun evaded, responding to X1’s shifting equilibrium with a hard uppercut. X1’s head snapped back and she stumbled for a moment before righting herself. Her face was resigned, determined, blood smeared across her lower lip. She grabbed a large glass vase and hurled it at Edun with a ferocity that would make Babe Ruth jealous. Edun moved to avoid it, but X1 had anticipated the move and had thrown the vase just a little askew. It smashed into Edun, the weight and force of it spinning her back to crash into the desk. X1 was on her before Edun could react, fists driving into Edun’s gut one after the other in a vicious tempo. Edun threw all the strength she had into a knee kick to the side, and was sure she felt a rib break beneath the force of it. X1 let out a gasp of pain and spun away, retreating from the blow. From the way she was breathing in sharp bursts, Edun was now positive the rib was broken. She wasn’t much better off, one hand pressed to her stomach. X1 was a hard hitter, no doubt about it. She felt a bizarre twinge of pride at the thought. 

They circled each other, and this time Edun pressed first, feinting as though she were going to throw a punch and following up with a sweeping kick. X1 threw herself at Edun, hands grabbing hold of the leather coat and swinging Edun around before releasing her grip. Edun felt herself hit the loft rail, then go over. She straightened her body, attempting to land on the floor below feet first and knees bent, but her landing was ruined by the snap of something in her ankle. Whether it was a bone or a tendon, Edun couldn’t say, though she howled in pain as she crumpled to the ground. X1 was already halfway down the stairs, barreling towards Edun. Edun lifted her boots, fucked up ankle and all, and attempted to launch X1 over her head again. X1 saw it coming, grabbing hold of Edun’s arm as she began her arc, and the two women tumbled over each other. Edun found herself on top and began to rain blows down on X1. X1 bucked, throwing Edun forward and smashing her head into the wall of the narrow hallway. Edun was dazed for a moment, and that was all X1 needed. She grabbed hold of Edun’s hair and smashed her head into the wall again and again. _Damn it, the scars were bad enough. Now the universe was just being a dick._

Edun bunched her body, twisted, and threw an elbow into X1’s broken rib. X1 let out a cry and released Edun, hunching over in pain. It was the opening Edun needed. She threw herself on X1’s back and wrapped an arm tightly around her neck. Edun had learned enough about choke holds while serving among much bigger soldiers. Once you had your target in one, it was nearly impossible for them to get out of it in time. All she needed to do was hang on for just long enough. X1 stiffened and fought her way back to her feet. Edun tried to hamper her with her own legs, but she had enough on her plate trying to hang on, and failed. X1 threw herself against the wall, bashing Edun into it in an attempt to dislodge her. Edun hung on despite the agony blooming from the base of her skull. It was still tender from the last round of abuse, and did not appreciate being beaten against a wall. X1 repeated the action again and again, but lack of oxygen began to take effect and she collapsed to her knees. Edun maintained her grip, feeling the fight slowly ebb from the synth. 

Once X1 had gone limp, Edun released her and clambered laboriously to her feet. _Everything_ hurt, though her ankle was the worst of it. She would deal with her twin in a moment. First, she needed to lift the security lockdown and sound the evacuation. She could not put weight on her ankle, so hopped down the hallway and back up the stairs, whimpering in pain as she clutched the rail for support. She hopped across the office, the floor now covered with bits of broken vase, and sat down at Shaun’s terminal. First, she overrode the security lockdown. That would grant her people access again, and they should be able to make the push to the reactor with the way open. Next, she activated the emergency evacuation order. Hopefully it wasn’t too late. She had no way of knowing if any of the innocent humans and synths were still alive, with the Brotherhood involved. She needed to find something to splint her ankle with, and then she needed to get the hell out of there. If she made it back down to the Atrium, she would at least have people to help her.

She pushed the chair back from the desk and stood. There was a loud roar from behind her, followed by a bullet tearing through her and embedding itself in the white wall she was facing. Edun looked down to see the large, ragged hole where it had exited her chest. The leather had done nothing to stop it. Hollow point, if she had to guess, from the size of it and the way it had shredded the edges of the leather. Blood began to gush freely from the wound. She swayed on her feet before tumbling to the floor. With her good foot, she pushed herself back and up against the wall. If she was dying, she wanted to see her killer.

Shaun stood in the center of the office, Edun’s own .44 Magnum aimed at her in his shaking hands. She closed her eyes and smiled. How poetic. Slain by her own gun.

“Look at me,” Shaun growled. “ _You don’t get to die yet._ I want to see that you understand you have lost.”

“Oh, honey, I haven’t lost a damn thing,” she said thickly. “But you’ve lost something. Your goddamn _mind._ ” She chuckled at her own joke, then coughed. Blood speckled the white tile before her. _That wasn’t good._

“Even if your friends succeed in blowing the reactor, you will die down here with us. With _me._ You’ll never see your beloved Preston or that flea-bitten mongrel of yours again.” He wanted so badly to hurt her, to drown her in hopelessness. He wanted to make her feel as lost as he was.

She cracked an eye open at that. “I’ve been living on borrowed time since I crawled out of that vault. There’s been plenty of times I should have died, and didn’t for some reason or another. This is just another one of those days, except I think maybe this time it’s the real deal.” It had to be. The saying had always been that you see your life flash before you in the end, and as Edun closed her eye again and welcomed the darkness behind her lids once more, she could see it all. 

_The flames licking at the crashed vertibird. Throwing herself over Church and feeling the blast of heat from the explosion._

_The day the bombs fell, and the shockwave of fire and radiation ripping through the trees towards her. An infant, crying in her arms._

_The Deathclaw slashing and prying at her power armor._

_Warm fur beneath her fingers. Pet the dog. Just pet the dog._

_The way Eggs’ eyes lit up each time he struck her. Feeling her flesh bruise and her bones break beneath his fists; hanging from her bonds and waiting for the end to come._

_Preston’s hands in her hair and his lips on hers. The memory of her words: I would fucking die for you, Preston Garvey._

_Sitting shoulder to shoulder on the Forecastle with Danse, the clink of their beers as they toasted to friendship and one hell of a sunset._

_Dangling in the air twenty floors up, watching the massive green fist around her wrist dragging her closer and closer to her doom. Her arm, separating from her before gravity wrenched her away._

_Cait’s beautiful singing voice as she washed away the pain in Edun’s soul along with the dirty suds._

_Stepping into the teleporter for the first time and feeling certain she would never see the people she loved again._

“No,” Shaun howled, breaking through the fractured memories. “It can’t be this easy for you. It _can’t_ be.”

Edun laughed, then coughed, blood bubbling at her lips. “Why do you care? You made yourself a willing puppet. You’ve got X1 to keep you warm in your final moments.”

“She’s not _you_ ,” he protested. “She’s just some useless machine. She isn’t the _same_. She doesn’t talk like you, doesn’t have the same spark. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have scrapped her immediately.”

Edun opened her eyes, and noticed movement. X1 had come up the stairs silently. She stood behind Shaun, her face a mask of pain and incredulity as she listened to his words. 

“How can you say that?” Edun asked softly. “I met her. She is as alive, as human, as I am. She thinks she loves you. She thinks you love her.”

He made a derisive sound. “Of _course_ she does. It is her programming. I could no more love a machine than I could love a super mutant. Making her was a mistake. One I will rectify, as soon as I am done with you.”

“It must really suck for you, knowing I’d rather die than let you touch me. Come to think of it, I’d rather touch a ghoul. _Have_ touched a ghoul. Or a super mutant.” 

He cursed and cocked the hammer back on her revolver. “Then you will have a chance for that in hell.”

The gun roared again, but the shot went wide as X1 slammed herself into Shaun. He yelled as she drove him to the ground. Edun closed her eyes again, the meaty thuds of X1’s fists making wine seeming far away. She felt as though she were wrapped in a warm blanket, or enveloped in a hot bath. She was losing focus as the blood loss took her. She was only dimly aware of hands on her, putting pressure to the wound in her chest. Heavy footfalls approaching. Power armor, maybe. A familiar face, blurry, swimming before her. She struggled to make sense of it at first, but she would recognize those warm brown eyes anywhere.

“I love you,” she managed to whisper. Then the dark waters were closing over her head. She had lost too much blood. The pull was too strong to resist, and she was lost to the depths.


	50. Sisters

Some fucking jackass had stuffed her mouth with cotton. Her tongue felt swollen, her cheeks dry as though she’d munched on sawdust as a snack. Edun groaned and tried to move. Something tugged at her right arm. She opened her eyes. She was in a dimly lit hospital room of some kind. There was an IV in her arm. Pressure against her head told her she was either wearing a fabulous hat or a bandage. She lifted her left arm and examined herself. Her head was swathed in bandages, alright. She looked down, grimacing in pain, and lifted her hospital gown, peering down at her body. Her chest was bandaged as well. Thick white bandages wrapped around and around her torso. Her body was decorated with fading bruises everywhere she had exposed skin. She really had to break the nasty habit of waking up in a hospital bed half-dead. People would talk.

Ignoring the pain and grunting with the effort, Edun pushed herself into the best sitting position she could muster. She heard a familiar sound.  _ Thump thump thump thump.  _

“Dogmeat?” She asked hoarsely, daring to lean to the side just a little. The tip of a tail protruding from beneath the bed thumped harder, and then disappeared as the dog turned himself around and emerged from below. He nosed her hand gently, his usual unabridged enthusiasm tempered as though he was aware of how fragile and weak she was. She stroked the soft fur, tears rising in her eyes.

“Hi sugarbomb babybear,” she crooned, her voice cracked and ugly. “It’s about time you showed up. The show’s over.”

She took a closer look at her surroundings. She knew these walls, that floor. She had been in this room before… the day Alan rebuilt her arm.  _ No.  _ She was still in the Institute? Why? Had her people failed?  _ Think, Edun,  _ she told herself.  _ What’s the last thing you remember?  _ She remembered the fight with X1. She remembered Shaun shooting her. There were… heavy footsteps, and brown eyes looking into hers. A voice warbling from far away, distorted. What did it say?  _ Are you alright? Edun please stay with me. Please.  _ Preston. Preston had found her in Shaun’s office, drowning in her own blood as her lung collapsed. There was nothing after that, only... dreams, and now this room. She pulled the IV from her arm and willed her legs over the side of the bed. That effort alone left her nearly breathless. Her ankle was in a splint, though it was a professionally done one rather than a field dressing. She stood, wobbly for a moment as she adjusted to the splint, and then hobbled her way to the door. She poked her head out. She could hear voices just down the hall, raised and tense. Well, what was more fun than interrupting an argument?

She moved down the hallway slowly, her body screaming its protest, using the wall for support. She could barely stay upright. She recognized Preston’s voice first, deep and mellow despite his frustration.

“This wasn’t what we agreed on. The plan was to blow this place all to hell.”

“Do you have any idea how invaluable a place like this is to the Brotherhood? Unlimited and self-sustaining resources. Virtually impenetrable. From here, we can see the entire Commonwealth and monitor all goings-on. This is exactly what the Brotherhood does. We take technology out of dangerous hands and use it to defend mankind. Your mistake is thinking you have a say in any of this. You are a civilian, and you are here out of our courtesy towards Edun. Nothing more.” A chill went down Edun’s spine. She knew that voice. It was Maxson. So, he wanted to turn the Institute into a fortress for the Brotherhood. As ideas went, it wasn’t terrible. With a resource like this place, anything was possible. She just wasn’t sure  _ Maxson  _ having control of it was the best idea.

“You are of course assuming the Council will accept the decisions you made here,” a third voice chimed in. “And that they will approve of your taking this place over rather than destroying it. Not to mention your failure to eliminate all the synth targets.”  _ Danse? What was he doing here? And Maxson hadn’t turned on him?  _

“As far as they know,  _ Edun _ let all the synths out before our arrival. Of course, I will do my absolute best to locate and destroy them, but the Commonwealth is a very big place. The task may prove fruitless. No doubt by now the Railroad has hidden them away. As for the Institute serving as a new base of operations… they will not fight me on this. There is wisdom in the decision. The Brotherhood has never had such an advantage before. We have a chance here to bolster our strength in ways never before thought possible.”

“Arthur, you are treading on a very slippery slope,” Danse’s deep voice cautioned. “At what point does this turn into embracing the very things the Institute was doing?”

“Perhaps we should invite Edun to the conversation,” Preston interjected. “She’s out in the hallway listening to us.”

Three pairs of eyes focused on Edun as she left her cover, appearing in the doorway. Preston was smiling, Danse looked relieved, and Maxson looked… pensive.

“Hello boys. Miss me?” She rasped.

“You should be in bed,” Preston chastised her, hurrying to her side and offering her his arm. She took it gratefully, relinquishing her hold on the door frame. “You have been out for two days while your body healed. By the time we found you up there, you were going into Hypovolemic shock. We weren’t sure when you’d wake up again.”

“So if I am understanding right, rather than blowing the Institute to smithereens, you have decided to turn it into your base of operations?” Edun asked Maxson, ignoring the news of her near-peril. “Do I even want to know what you did with the staff?”

“Gentlemen, would you leave us for a moment?” Maxson asked Danse and Preston. “I think Edun and I have a few things to discuss.”

The two men glanced at each other, sharing an unspoken message, before nodding at Maxson and leaving the room. Preston departed with a kiss to Edun’s temple, the spot where his lips touched staying warm long after he left the room.

“What did you do with the staff?” Edun demanded, turning back to Maxson. “Did you murder everyone?”

“They were given a choice,” Maxson answered. He didn’t like being questioned, but was tolerating it for the time being. “They could die, or they could work in service to the Brotherhood. They all chose the latter.”

“So they are prisoners, in a jail of their own making. Ironic, I suppose.”

“They will be treated well,” he promised. “With their help, there is little the Brotherhood cannot achieve. We solved the problem of clean water in the Capital, but breakthroughs such as the hardy crops the Institute has developed will be instrumental in rebuilding the world.”

“And the synths here… Did I hear you correctly? You let them go?”

He gave her a dark smile. “It was not the solution I preferred, but amidst the chaos there was no time to sort out humans from synths. Consider it an accidental mercy. I  _ do _ intend to remain vigilant, Edun. Do not think this reprieve is anything but temporary. Any synths discovered hiding out among the Commonwealth will be destroyed. It is my duty.”

“Fair enough,” Edun shrugged. “But I hope you realize I will do everything in my power to ensure you don’t find any of them.”

“I expected as much. You are a rather persistent thorn in my side.” She was surprised at the amusement in his eyes.

“I am surprised to see Danse here. You have made peace with each other, then?”

Maxson breathed out a long sigh. “I have had much time to think over the events outside that bunker. I...Regret my words. While I do not entirely understand it, I have come to accept that perhaps my friend and comrade was...is...still in there somewhere. With the Institute gone, there is little risk of him turning on anyone. I have allowed myself the small indulgence or forgiving both Danse and myself for the unfortunate situation. My orders stand, however. Only myself and Preston are aware of Danse’s presence here. If he is seen, he will be shot. For my men to see him, it would weaken me in their eyes.”

“Or it would strengthen you as a leader, showing you to be flexible and understanding. There is great strength in having the willingness and courage to change,” she challenged.

“Perhaps, Edun. But allow me to take small steps. You are asking much of me.”

“I’ll try not to push my luck. Frankly, I figured the next time I saw you, it would be at the receiving end of that nasty gatling laser of yours.” She winked at him.

“I considered it,” Maxson admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But I asked myself why. You have proven yourself to be reliable, brave, and loyal. Perhaps not to me…” He gave a small smile at that, “But to your people. By all rights, you exemplify the things the Brotherhood admires most. It felt… wrong to kill you, when your only transgression was being far too soft of heart.”

“Gee, who knew being a big softie would spare me someday,” Edun chuckled.

“Indeed. I find myself surprised at the thought process I have gone down since meeting you. After you left my ship, I fully planned to finish building Liberty Prime and rain hell down on the Institute. Imagine my shock when Preston approached me and shared his predicament. He explained the failed incursion, and warned me you had been taken hostage. I knew then I would not leave you to die in this place. You needed me. Danse needed you. The path became simple, though I have strayed too far from my original one, I think.”

“I never thought I would see the day Elder Maxson grew a heart,” Edun said wonderingly. “Sometimes I can clearly see the reasons for your men following you so vehemently. You are, at the end of the day, a great man and a fair leader.”

“Thank you,” he acknowledged, eyes gleaming. “I am… working on my rough edges, though I am not sure it would please the Council to hear it.”

“If I may… what happened to the Coursers who wanted to help us?”

He tilted his head and looked at her. “I could not say. We killed more than a few, ones who fought us... but I have a suspicion we did not get all of them. Their chips would have allowed them to leave the Institute at will, before we locked it all down.”

She hoped X6-88 and his fellow conspirators had made it out. After everything he had done to try and help her, it would be unfair and cruel for him to meet his end at the muzzle of a Brotherhood rifle. She swallowed, the lump in her throat painful.

“What about… the synth made in my image?”

Maxson’s eyes hardened. “She was detained. We have her in a holding cell. It did not seem right for us to deal with her until you were able to have a say in it. I will not interfere unless you request it of me, but… whatever you decide, the consequences will be your own. It will be the last time I turn a blind eye to your leanings.”

“Thank you,” Edun breathed. “I’d like to see her.”

Maxson gave her a castigating glance from head to toe. “Perhaps you should bathe first, and find a suitable change of clothing.”

“I hear hospital gowns that flap and show your bare backside are all the rage in the Commonwealth now,” she rolled her eyes.

There was little she could do at this point. The Brotherhood had been busily entrenching themselves into the Institute for two days. What was done was done. Her stupidity had resulted in handing an incredibly powerful resource to the Brotherhood of Steel. All she could do now was pray they did not abuse it or their newfound advantage. It was too easy for human beings to slide into old habits, though Maxson did seem to be a cut above the rest. His willingness to sacrifice his best friend in the name of his own creed was, in its own fucked up way, proof of what he was willing to do for his idea of the greater good. It was interesting to see that his experiences with her and Danse had softened him somewhat. She knew there would never be a place among his ranks again for Danse, but progress was progress.

She bid Maxson farewell, and slowly limped her way back out into the hall where Preston and Danse waited. She took one look at them, felt her chin wobble, and held out her arms. As group hugs went, it was a damn decent one. She felt a little like a sapling being squeezed by two enormous thousand-year-old oak trees, but ignored the impulses of pain her body insisted on sending to her brain. She was going to enjoy this, damn it. Danse was the first to break away, looking somewhat abashed, and Edun focused on Preston. He wrapped both of his arms around her with absolute tenderness, burying his face in the curve of her neck.

“I missed you,” he murmured against her skin. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I can’t make promises, honey,” she soothed, rubbing his back comfortingly. “I live a dangerous life, remember? But I’ll always come back to you. Always.” He answered her with a soft growl and gentle squeeze.

"Can you do something for me?” She asked when they finally parted.

“Anything,” was his immediate reply.

“Will you take me to… her?” She didn’t have to clarify. She saw immediate understanding in his face. He nodded and offered her his hand.

“I must return to the Castle,” Danse told them. “Ronnie is  _ dying _ for news, and...Haylen will be concerned as to my welfare.”

“Go get ‘em tiger,” Edun smirked, winking at Danse. He turned pink and strode out ahead of them.

“Let’s get you into some clothes first, okay? As much as I love that beautiful behind of yours, I don’t want the entirety of the Brotherhood enjoying it too,” Preston murmured, directing her back into her room.

“Preston, I never took you for the jealous type,” Edun teased, maneuvering around Dogmeat to rest on the edge of her bed.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but set about the task of dressing her without a rebuttal. He pulled a sock onto her one unencumbered foot, taking care not to tickle her sensitive sole. He slid a pair of sleek black pants, stretchy and fitted, over her legs and stopped at mid-thigh. She stood, holding on to his shoulders for balance and giggling as he pulled them up over her butt. Next came a tee shirt, a little too large for her. It was black, with Nuka Girl emblazoned across the front. She recognized it as one of his. The very same one Danse had once borrowed. He slid a boot onto the foot without a splint, explaining the other needed to stay bound up while the torn ligament healed. That done, he stepped back and surveyed her.

“Those pants are… well, damn, they’re something.” His voice was admiring, and Edun smirked.

“Sandra Dee’s got nothing on me. Can we go now? I’m dressed enough I won’t scandalize anyone.”

_ “I _ feel pretty scandalized,” he teased gently, offering her his arm again.

Their return to SRB was slow going, between her weakened, aching body and the splint. She was grateful nobody had dosed her full of Med-X or something worse. She had a feeling Preston had cautioned against it, citing her reluctance to take chems. The Atrium was crawling with Brotherhood personnel. Scribes hurried back and forth, frantically documenting everything, and Knights and Paladins kept watchful eyes from their posts. The cataloguing of the resources here alone would take them months to sort through. Edun noted as they entered SRB that despite Ayo’s body being removed, nobody had made any attempt to clean up the puddle left behind. Dried blood stained the floor, here and there curled up in strange little ripples where it had congealed and contracted on itself. Ayo had bled like a stuck pig near the end, Edun noted with grim satisfaction. He wouldn’t be tormenting any synths ever again, whether they be escapees or Coursers.

X1 was being kept in one of the interrogation rooms, manacled just as Edun had been. Preston opened the door for her, promising he would be just outside if Edun needed anything. She thanked him, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind her. The slumped figure straightened, spine stiffening and shoulders squaring. She looked to be in decent condition, no doubt given a stimpack while in custody. She bore little remnants of her fight with Edun, though her skin was mottled with healing bruises as well. The broken skin across her knuckles was scabbed over, healing from the damage done while pummeling Shaun. She watched Edun enter the room warily, her body language screaming  _ come and get me, I dare you. _

Edun drew up a chair across from X1, lowering herself into it with wobbly limbs. “So,” she began, “Here we are.”

“Did you come here to gloat?” X1 asked, her voice harsh.

“Gloat? No. But I want to talk.” Edun folded her hands in her lap. “Do you know why you are still here?”

“Because your people were waiting for you to wake, and locked me up until then. Now that you are awake, they will kill me.”

“No,” Edun shook her head. “Not here in this room. Here as in, still alive.”

“Because you throw a shit punch?” X1 offered. Edun felt a grin spread across her face.  _ There  _ was a little piece of her. They’d got something right, at any rate.

“First of all, fuck you, Mohammed Ali himself would be jealous of my skills. Secondly… No. Also not it.” She eyed her twin, noticing the once shining hair was now limp and her eyes were sunken. She felt more than a little angry at her people for locking X1 up in this place. “I have your recall code. I’ve had it this entire time.”

X1 lifted her chin defiantly. “Then use it, and let’s be done with all this. Shaun is dead. The Institute is yours. There is no reason to keep me alive.”

“I disagree,” Edun answered, one brow lifted . “I can think of a few reasons to keep you alive.”

“I don’t know anything,” X1 growled. “I was not given leave to wander about the Institute, as you were. My place was at Father’s side.”

“I don’t want information from you,” Edun sighed. “Those are not my reasons. You are… human, X1. As human as I am. The only way to tell the difference between us is to crack that head of yours open. For all intents and purposes, you are a human. With that comes a whole lot more. You are capable of feelings - real ones, not just ones they put in your head. You are capable of feeling happiness and sadness, fear and courage. The possibilities that come with being human are endless. I don’t want to  _ kill _ you. I don’t want to imprison you. I want you to walk out that door with me and live a  _ real  _ life. There is so much to see outside of this place.”

“If I walk out into that world of yours, I am as good as dead. Father told me how the Commonwealth views my kind.”

Edun held up a hand. “Okay, first of all, let’s stop calling that twat ‘Father.’ His name is Shaun. He didn’t sire anyone, he was just a genetic guinea pig the Institute used for their own gain. Second of all, the surface isn’t entirely without its charms. You might find yourself surprised at how great it can be… when you’re not being shot at by mutants.”

X1 eyed her curiously. “What’s the point? You go out there and risk death with every breath, from what I’ve seen. Why?”

“For friendship,” Edun answered simply. “For love. For the simple little things like seeing crops sprout from the soil, or playing fetch with my dog. For hot baths full of bubbles and long nights with lots of whiskey. For waking up every day knowing my makeshift family is going to be happy to see me.”

“Those are  _ your  _ reasons,” X1 pointed out. “I have none.”

“Not yet,” Edun smiled. “But let’s say... we are sisters. That’s a start. Now you have a family. What’s next?”

X1 stared at her for a long moment. She looked confused and alone. “I want a name,” she said at last. “I want a name that is  _ mine _ . I do not wish to be X1-77 any longer, nor do I wish to be  _ Edun _ . So...what am I?”

Edun chewed on the thought. “You don’t look like an Edun, anyway. You’re too pretty and fancy. I always told myself if I had a daughter, I’d name her Arden. After my mother. What would you think of that?”

“Arden,” X1 said, tasting the name on her tongue. “I like it. It is… Similar to yours, but different. As though we are twins, rather than an original and a copy.”

“You know what the good news about this is?” Edun asked.

“What?”

“If you ever need a kidney, I’m a perfect match.”

Arden stared at Edun for a moment before bursting into laughter. Edun joined her, and the two women howled with mirth inside the tiny room. It was as though a dam had broken.

“What do you want to do now?” Edun queried when they had regained control of themselves, wiping tears from her eyes. “Where do you want to go?”

“I never thought I would leave this place,” Arden confessed. “I… don’t know what I want. Can you show me this world you love so much?”

“Of course,” Edun replied. “But first thing’s first. Let’s get you out of those damn things.”

“Why are you helping me? Why do all this for me? I tried to kill you.”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Edun shrugged. “Because you were made with my DNA and I feel responsible for you. Because you deserve a chance at life. Because fuck Shaun.”

Arden smiled, though there was great and terrible sadness in her expression. “Yeah,” she said softly, “Fuck that guy.”

If Preston took issue with Edun unlocking the manacles and freeing Arden, he kept his reservations to himself. He watched them go, Dogmeat sitting patiently at his side. Arden shuffled behind Edun as they left the SRB, her eyes dull and her shoulders slumped. They walked to the middle of the Atrium, a dozen Brotherhood eyes on them, and Edun raised her wrist to bring up the teleporter function on her pip boy.

“Wait.” Arden placed a hand on Edun’s halting the motion. “There is something I would like to do, if you might indulge me.”

“Nothing stabby or murder-y, right?” Edun asked.

“No. I only wish to see Fa--Shaun’s, office again.”

Edun shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Just stay close to me. You make the Brotherhood boys itchy.”

They made their way up the white stairs, now scuffed from power armor repeatedly tromping up and down them. The door to the Director’s quarters was open. Upon closer inspection, Edun saw the Brotherhood had gutted the place of all technology. Disengaged cables and wires hung limply from the wall where they had once adjoined to Shaun’s terminal. There was a long, rust-colored smear along the floor where Shaun’s body had been dragged out. It was stark against the white floor, and Edun heard Arden breathe in sharply at the sight. Edun stepped to the side, giving Arden a wide berth. Arden walked to the center of the room, her boots scuffing against the blood stained floor. She stood silent, her shoulders heaving with emotion as she turned her head this way and that, surveying the room. Then something clicked in her, and she was in motion - striding purposefully over to Shaun’s desk and lifting the record player over her head before bringing it to the ground, smashing it violently against the white tile. Edun managed to remain still. 

Arden gathered steam, turning to the collection of vinyl records. She began grabbing them one at a time and snapping them over her knee, lips curled back in a furious snarl. She was methodical, destroying every single record. They crunched beneath her feet as she strode towards the bedroom next, and Edun followed at a distance. Arden was tearing the bedding from the pristine mattress, flinging the sheets to the floor and sending the pillows sailing. When that wasn’t satisfying enough, she tore everything out of the dresser drawers and scattered it everywhere. She hefted the solid ceramic lamp from the bedside table and shattered it against the wall, an animal-like scream tearing its way out of her throat. 

She advanced on the bathroom, hands balled into fists, and began destroying it as well. She yanked the shower curtain from its hooks and left it lying where it fell. She opened the medicine cabinet and threw the assorted bottles of medication and grooming implements everywhere. When she closed it again, her chest was rising and falling with the exertion of her tirade. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment, and Edun recognized the expression on the woman’s features. Hatred. Not for Shaun. Not for the Institute. For  _ herself.  _ She let out a soft, broken cry and began to beat her fists against the mirror. The glass cracked beneath the assault, then shattered as the abuse continued. Arden’s fists thudded against it, leaving bloody imprints of her closed fists over the fractured glass. Edun considered intervening, but wasn’t entirely sure Arden wouldn’t turn on her next.

The fight left Arden, then, and she let herself crumple to the floor with a wretched sob. She held her bleeding hands to her chest, struggling to control the strangled grief escaping her throat. Edun moved, then, stepping over the mess and crouching beside her twin. She pulled a hand towel from the holder on the wall, and gently extended her hand. Shaking, Arden let Edun take her hands. Edun gingerly removed the bits of glass from Arden’s hands before wrapping the towel around them. It would do for now, until she could get to some proper bandages and antibiotic cream.

“All done here?” She asked softly, her hands putting pressure on the cuts over the towel. Arden raised her chin, meeting Edun’s eyes, and the pain there was a bullet straight through Edun’s heart.

“Yes,” Arden rasped. “Get me out of here. I never want to see this place again.”


	51. A Wayward Friend

The more time Edun spent with Arden, the more she saw her personality traits shine through in her ‘sister’. Arden had been given the choice of new memories or keeping the ones she had, and opted for the latter. She did not see the point in reimagining her past, choosing rather to learn from it. Edun was damn proud of her for that. It took guts. Arden wasn’t the sort to take the easy way out, and she threw herself into every task with absolute determination. It took Edun some time to acclimate everyone to her new shadow. Her closest friends knew the truth. The rest of the Commonwealth knew Arden as the long-lost twin sister, kept in a croyo pod deeper within the vault and only recently discovered. It was safer that way, especially to preserve the sanctity of Power Noodle trips. Their similarities made it an easy lie to share, for they shared inflections and Arden rapidly picked up Edun’s foul mouth.

Sometimes, Edun would catch Arden staring at her in fascination. It was usually immediately after Edun did something scandalous, like wandering through Diamond City in nothing but an oversized tee shirt and flip flops for a snack run before returning to Home Plate. The way Edun saw it, by now most everyone in the Commonwealth had seen her ass. She didn’t see the problem. Arden had a more reserved personality. She often spoke more eloquently than Edun, and her sense of humor required some development at times. She missed a lot of cultural references. If Edun had to hazard a guess, she would say the differences were an intentional part of her programming. Arden had been created with the sole purpose of being Shaun’s consolation prize, and he had taken it upon himself to tweak the things about Edun he did not like before impressing them onto Arden.

Edun spent a considerable amount of time dragging Arden around the Commonwealth with her. They revisited all Edun’s old haunts, ate an astronomical amount of Power Noodles, drank Deacon under the table together, and helped Jun bake cookies. The cookies were ruined. Apparently baking wasn’t one of the talents programmed into Arden, though she could hit a tin can at 600 yards with a pipe rifle. Edun wasn’t one to complain, considering she had suffered worse at the hands of Sturges. Strangely enough, Arden shared Edun’s aversion to carrots. The first time Edun spied a pile of mushy orange blobs piled outside of Arden’s bowl, she cackled gleefully. Dogmeat was about to enjoy double rations for the rest of his life.

One thought that bothered Edun every time she shut her eyes was the concern she felt for X6-88. He had sacrificed everything to help her, and for all she knew he was one of the unrecognizable bodies that had been piled in a long, cool room for her inspection. She hadn’t recognized most of the dead Coursers, but hoped X6 wasn’t among those with their faces half blown away by grenades or gunfire. She needed to know. The sense of unfinished business plagued her endlessly. She decided she would go to Diamond City and see if Nick couldn’t assist her with digging up some info. If anyone could find something out, it was him. Arden tagged along as usual, sneaking bites of snack cake to Dogmeat the entire trip. Even Edun had to protest. At the rate Arden was abusing the giving of treats, Dogmeat’s girth would soon rival the Prydwen.

“Edun, Arden,” Nick greeted them upon their arrival, giving each of them a peck on the cheek before ruffling Dogmeat’s fur. “What brings you to my neck of the woods today?”

“I need your help finding someone. Or, perhaps a group of someones. I’m not sure,” Edun began. Nick raised an eyebrow.

“What are we dealing with here, exactly?”

She spread her hands. “I... need you to help me find an Institute Courser. I think he’s living out in the Commonwealth somewhere, I just…don’t know where.”

Nick made a choking noise. “Finding a Courser is usually a death sentence, Edun. Are you really askin’ this of me?”

“He’s not...like other Coursers. He’s the reason I got out of there alive. He’s one of the good ones.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Arden smile to herself.

“Describe him to me,” Nick requested. “That’s a start, at any rate.”

“He’s maybe 6’5”. About as wide as Danse is. Dark skin, black hair, black eyes. Pitch black. There’s no color to his irises at all. He went by X6-88, but for all I know he goes by Jim-Bob now.”

“Well, the good news is he sounds like a hard guy to miss,” Nick mused. “Someone’s bound to know something. Give me a day or two to shake some trees, see what falls out. Can the two of you stay out of trouble for that long?”

He was asking Edun, but his eyes shifted to Arden. The subject of his gaze blinked innocently and flipped her hair as though miffed.

“C’mon, Nick, it was only a little bit of pink paint. It scrubbed right off.” Clearly he had not forgotten the prank involving pink paint and a rare ‘nap.’ From time to time the old synth would go into a sort of _rest mode_ and run system diagnostics. Arden had decided it would be a great time to paint his logo _everywhere_ , in flamingo pink.

“You haven’t seen _under_ the trench coat,” he said severely. “Now shoo, the lot of you. I’ve got work to do. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks, Nick,” Edun rose from her chair, and Arden followed suit. The two of them strolled back out into the city.

Normally she would say hello to RJ, but he was in Goodneighbor, awaiting the arrival of his son with Ellie. Edun hadn’t forgotten his request for help, and after providing several perfectly good ideas to him ( _Write it out in a bowl of noodles? Light a fire in the shape of the words and take a vertibird over it? Carve it into the forehead of a severed super mutant head?_ ), he had given up on her and opted for having Nick hand Ellie a top secret client file with the message from RJ written inside. Naturally, Ellie had said yes. The couple had decided to wait until spring, with the air having turned far too cold for a proper event. It was November now. Sometimes Edun would think about the days of Thanksgiving dinners with her family. Mom yelling at everyone to please sit down, Ben chasing a shrieking Alice through the house with a turkey neck, and Dad quietly drinking one beer after another while gazing at them all with love in his eyes. Those had been good times. Thanksgivings had been more lackluster during her years of service. Holiday leave was rare, and more often than not she found herself sitting alongside other soldiers while they roasted slabs of Cram on sticks over a fire in the middle of nowhere.

She contemplated arranging something for her Commonwealth family, but decided against it. There were no turkeys here, or cranberries, or pumpkins. Though one time Jun had made a squash pie, and damn if it wasn't pretty close to the real thing. The man could work miracles.

With nothing to do but kill time, they returned to the Castle. Edun wanted to see Preston, and Arden had left her latest filthy romance novel unfinished. She had been rampaging through the library, eagerly blazing through all the _fun_ books the Institute would never have allowed her to read.

Edun noticed Danse and Haylen had grown considerably closer as well. Though the big man was not exactly a natural at displaying affection, there were little gestures and bouts of handholding that showed the depth of his feeling for the petite woman. Once, Edun and Arden had caught the two snogging in an abandoned hallway of the castle. Neither of them had let the embarrassed lovebirds live it down, catcalling and making smacking noises any time they saw the two together. Danse blushed furiously like a charm, and Haylen usually giggled and looked somewhat proud of herself. Her face glowed with pride every time she looked up at Danse. The fact that he was a synth had never bothered her, not for one second, and her unflappable stance on it helped soothe Danse’s pain over the subject.

That evening, sitting atop the wall and munching on snack cakes, Arden watched the two of them wander into the Castle before turning to Edun. 

“I want that,” she said. “I want the real thing. Like they have. Like you and Preston have. Like RJ and Ellie have. My only brush with romance was an old crazy man who programmed it into me.” Whenever Arden mentioned her past, remembering Shaun, her eyes flashed with anger. The wound was still fresh, still causing her pain. Edun couldn’t imagine what Arden had felt, hearing his words of betrayal before the end. She had beaten Shaun to death with her fists, striking at the pulped face until Danse pulled her off of the body. He told Edun later that Arden had gone limp, the fight leaving her, and only sobbed brokenly as they hauled her off to the holding cell.

“Can’t rush these things, honeybee,” Edun replied. “They happen or they don’t. You never know. I do know a really sweet super mutant if you’re interested…”

“Ass,” Arden groused, vengefully mashing chocolate and frosting into Edun’s hair. She was truly a holy terror. Worse than Cait.

Nick was as good as his word. He sent for them by afternoon on the second day. Edun gave Preston a loud goodbye kiss that made Arden roll her eyes in an over-dramatic fashion, and then the two made their trip back to Diamond City. Arden was a particularly helpful travel companion. She was as vicious in a fight as X6-88 was, the Courser programming making for one deadly femme fatale. Edun sometimes found herself jealous. Arden really was an improvement upon her, in every sense of the word. She was faster, stronger, impervious to disease or radiation, and had never been crisped by a vertibird air fryer. Edun knew it was stupid to feel this way. The universe always lent balance. While Arden seemingly had been given everything, she had also been brought into a world where she was a deranged man’s plaything and nothing more. Who knew what her life would have been like after Shaun’s natural passing from the cancer. In all likelihood, she would have been wiped, reset, and then sent out to drag escaped synths back to the Institute. Edun might have been crisped, but she had been given the gift of choice. She chose Preston of her own free will.

Beneath the veneer of sarcasm and developing humor, there was turmoil to Arden. She was still figuring out her place in the world, and while she seemed content to shadow Edun and assist on missions, Edun knew there would come a time when Arden would decide to stretch her wings and fly the nest. It was a thought that both pleased Edun and caused her sorrow. She had never been closer to anyone in her life. Not even her own true siblings, before the war. While Arden was an individual, their similarities made for very little guesswork. Edun seemed to always know what Arden was thinking or feeling, just as Arden was the same with her.

Nick’s face was grave when they finally arrived back in Diamond City. “I think I have a lead, but it’s not good.”

“Define… _Not good_ ,” Arden asked, cocking her head.

“The last time he was seen, he was being dragged through the gates of a place called Covenant. Ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say I have,” Edun shrugged. “What is it?”

“On the surface, it’s an idyllic little community that obsesses a little too hard over pre-war stuff. I hear they make great lemonade, though. You dig a little deeper, that’s where it gets dicey. Rumor has it synths go in and don’t come out.”

“They’re killing them?” Edun asked, chest tight.

“Perhaps. Or worse. If your friend is in there, I don’t think it’s a good thing, either way. If it’s not already too late, the clock is going to be ticking.”

“Then we are going right now,” Edun said, shooting to her feet. “Do you have the coordinates of this place?”

“There’s more,” He held up a hand, halting her. “I believe they’ve got old man Stockton’s daughter, too. One of his caravans was attacked just outside of Covenant. By all accounts, that was their last stop before they were assaulted. Stockton asked me to investigate. If you could look into that, you can solve two cases in one visit. I’d owe you. Considering they’re making synths disappear, I’m not sure that’s a fire I personally want to walk into.”

“You wouldn’t owe me anything,” Edun insisted. “Not after all the times you’ve helped me. I’ll do it. Just tell me where to go.”

Nick slid the file across the desk to her, and Edun logged the coordinates into her pip boy. “Thanks, Nick. I knew you’d find something.”

“Edun, be careful. These people are no joke. They _really_ don’t like synths, and Arden here could be in danger.”

“I can handle myself, sweetpea,” Arden promised, reaching across the desk and pinching Nick’s plastic cheek. “Don’t worry about us. We’re the dream team.”

“My advice stands,” the old synth sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Good luck, you two.”

According to her map, the mysterious Covenant was up by Lexington. They had a long damn walk ahead of them. They would stop by Diamond City Surplus and stock up on everything they could possibly need to face off with a group of synth killers.

-

“Did you know him?” Edun asked, stirring the pork ‘n beans as they bubbled over the campfire.

“Who?” Arden asked, not bothering to look up from tickling Dogmeat’s feet while he slept. His legs twitched, but otherwise he remained deep in dreamland.

“X6. You know, the reason we’re out here in the middle of the woods, camping. My least favorite activity.”

Arden raised her eyes to Edun. “No. Not like you do. I didn’t speak to anyone but Fa- er, Shaun, unless otherwise instructed. Other than watching him interact with X6-88 to give orders or ask questions, I had no familiarity with your friend.”

“He really isolated you.” Edun hugged her knees, frowning. “I’m so sorry.”

“He is dead now,” Arden’s voice was light, but it didn’t fool Edun. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Arden, it’s okay if it still hurts. Everyone processes trauma differently. You have been through a lot in a short time.”

“You know what’s really fucked up?” Arden asked, an edge creeping into her voice. “I _miss_ him. I feel so guilty for what I did to him it...makes my _teeth_ hurt, somehow. It hurts to be in my own _skin_. I’ve never felt anything like this, and I despise myself for it. Why can’t I just hate him?”

“You’re experiencing grief,” Edun told her gently. “It will get better in time. Whenever things hurt too much to bear, I talk to friends or I pet the dog. Otherwise it’s just… waiting. Healing the kind of wounds you can’t see is a lot like healing the wounds you _can_ see. Some things help, some things give you relief, but ultimately you have to wait it out. And sometimes there will be scars, reminders of the things you survived.”

“I have… memories. Your memories. I see the things you saw, the night Church died. I feel… sadness for his loss, though it is like something I can almost see but not quite there. A glimmer in the periphery of my vision. Vague details, shapes, sounds. This thing I feel towards Shaun, it’s... clearer. The sorrow is real, and it’s as if a sack of stones is tied to my feet, pulling me under.”

“He gave you those memories? Christ, Arden. I’m so sorry. All this time, they have been my burden to bear. I didn’t know you carried them as well.”

Arden gave Edun a half smile and shrugged. “Burdens shared are burdens easier to carry. At least neither of us is alone in it now.”

“You know what,” Edun said, setting the spoon down. “Asshole or not, I’m glad Shaun made you. I’m glad I have a sister, and I’m glad you’re my friend. If you are all that is left of his legacy, then...at least he did one good thing with it.”

“Don’t go soft on me, you big squish.” The words were tempered with a grin, and Edun rolled her eyes.

“Come grab some food. And then it’s bedtime. I’ll take first watch. We’re close, now. In the morning we will do some scouting and see what’s what.”

The two women ate their dinner, said their goodnights, and Arden cozied down into her bedroll with Dogmeat for warmth. If anyone were to ask Dogmeat, and if he had the ability to speak, he would tell them that having _two_ Eduns was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Both Edun and Arden were wrapped around his paw. They spoiled him rotten with cuddles and affection, treats and toys. He had even neglected Preston in favor of Arden, much to the big man’s chagrin. Edun watched them both fall asleep, backs to the crackling fire, and tossed bits of wood in as needed to keep the fire going. Their wool coats kept them warm for the most part, but she wouldn’t want to be out here come December. It was almost a miracle snow hadn’t blanketed the Commonwealth yet. She thought about introducing Arden to making snowmen, and grinned to herself.

If X6-88 was alive, they’d break him out of that place. If they were too late, and he was dead… She’d avenge him with the mercilessness people like that deserved. There was a duality to her nature, shaped by her life in the Commonwealth. She recognized the irony in it. Here she was, contemplating hosting a Thanksgiving dinner, or making snow angels with her twin… and simultaneously considering murdering an entire complex of people over their fear of synths. It was something she no longer lost sleep over. The woman who had felt guilt over slaughtering murderous raiders was gone, replaced by a walking contradiction. Life was never black and white. Nothing was ever so simple as good or bad. Edun liked to think she was one of the good guys. Others certainly thought so. Shaun had banked on it, and nearly succeeded in securing his Institute because of it. The fire popped and crackled, and Edun stared into it until the moon was high and Arden awoke to take over watch.

Morning came with golden light bathing Edun’s eyelids in addition to Dogmeat’s tongue. She sat up with a mumbling protest, wiping at the slobber across her face, and grimaced at Arden’s amused face.

“What?” she grumbled.

“Your hair is a work of art,” Arden answered, tossing a meat-filled bun at Edun. Edun, being considerably less athletically inclined, missed catching it. The bun beaned her in the forehead instead, and Arden snickered.

“You witch, I’ll trip you into the river.”

Arden smirked. “I can swim better than you can.”

After a hurried breakfast during which Dogmeat ate two of the buns, they packed up their camp and extinguished the fire. Edun shivered in the cold morning air, her breath clouding out from her mouth and nose. For today’s entertainment, they were both armed with laser pistols and shotguns. It didn’t sound like this Covenant place was a fortress by any means, and their weapons should be fine if it came down to combat. They had chosen their campsite carefully. It was sheltered, the trees providing decent cover, but only a mile’s walk from the walls of Covenant. They stopped on a hill overlooking the compound, and both Edun and Arden pulled out their binoculars to survey it. Everything appeared to be quiet. People seemed to go about their morning peaceably, chatting or tending to crops grown inside the walls. At the entrance, only one man guarded the gate. The rest of the security appeared to be machine gun turrets. The guard sat at a table, legs kicked up, reading a magazine. Either they weren’t a crazy cult or they were a very confident cult.

“How do you want to play this?” Arden asked.

“Well, I don’t want to go in guns a-blazin’ just yet. Why don’t we walk up to the gate and have a chat with the guard? We can role play. We’ll be the dumb tourists.”

“What if they have some way of detecting what I am?” Arden looked nervous as she lowered her binoculars. “What if they open fire?”

“Then we fire back. I don’t know why you’re scared. You’re a big bad Courser, remember?”

“The baddest,” Arden agreed. 

Decision made, they made their way down the hill and up to the front gate. As they drew near, the guard straightened, returning his feet to the ground and sitting more upright. He had an open, friendly face framed by large ears.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly. “Are you folks here to visit Covenant?”

“Yeah,” Edun replied. “Someone told me you folks are really friendly. Said there’s great lemonade to be had.”

The man chuckled. “I’ve heard many reasons for visiting us, but that’s a first. Though it is some pretty darn good lemonade. What Deezer _calls_ lemonade, anyway. Well, we’ve got one basic rule. If you wanna enter the complex, you’ve got to answer a few questions first. It’s a test of sorts.”

“I hope it’s not an IQ test,” Arden piped up. “Because my sister would fail it.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Edun chuckled, her amusement genuine.

“Well, I’ll need both of you to take the test, even if you’re as alike as two peas in a pod,” the guard said with a wink. “It’s called the SAFE test.”

Edun leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “Interesting idea. What is the test for, exactly?”

The guard seemed to melt a little under Edun’s disarming smile. “I probably shouldn’t say nothin’, but...but listen, we just want to make sure only good people come to Covenant. No undesirables. People who ain’t what they seem to be, ya know?”

Edun screwed up her face in disgust. “You mean _synths_.” She said the word laced with disdain.

The man looked relieved, nodding. “Then you understand why the test is so important. It’s how we keep things here safe.”

“If taking the test means we get to try this famous lemonade, then we’re game.” Edun was a little worried. She didn’t know what kind of test this was, but if they had a way of detecting the synth component in Arden’s head, things were going to devolve really quick.

“Great, have a seat and we’ll get started. Name’s Swanson. And you ladies are…”

“I’m Edun,” Edun replied. “That tall drink of jackass is my sister, Arden.”

Swanson bobbed his head in greeting at Arden, and Edun didn’t miss the gleam in his eye. Arden really was the prettier half of their cookie. Swanson sat down across from Edun and pulled a clipboard out of the desk. “Let’s begin. Don’t worry. There ain’t no wrong answers. Just answer the best you can.”

“Gimme whatcha got,” Edun answered mildly.

Swanson cleared his throat and began to read. “You are approached by a frenzied scientist, who yells: ‘I’m going to put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber!’ What do you do?”

_Jesus christ, they can’t be serious with this shit,_ Edun thought. “Tell him no way that is happening unless he buys me dinner first,” she answered.

Swanson made a choking noise, cleared his throat, and proceeded. “Next question. While working as an intern in the clinic, a patient with a strange infection on his foot stumbles through the door. The infection is spreading at an alarming rate, but the doctor has stepped out for a while. What do you do?”

“Uhhhh inject him with every antibiotic I can find and pray he doesn’t start sprouting mushrooms.”

“I see,” Swanson said, scribbling something down. “You discover a young boy lost in a cave. He’s hungry and frightened, but also appears to be in possession of stolen property. What do you do?”

“He’s a little kid who’s lost. The first thing I’m going to do is feed him and take him home. His parents can deal with handing out discipline. That’s not up to me.” She was starting to suspect there _were_ right or wrong answers. It was clear they were trying to feel out if she had a normal conscience. She hoped Arden answered the same way Edun would.

“Congratulations! You made it onto a baseball team! Which position do you prefer?”

Edun grimaced. “The dugout. I’ve been on a baseball team before. It didn’t go well for the kid I gave a black eye to with my atrocious curve ball. For the safety of everyone, put me on the bench.”

“Alrighty then,” Swanson said with raised eyebrows, writing on his paper again. “Your grandmother invites you to tea, but you’re surprised when she gives you a pistol and orders you to kill someone. What do you do?”

“Goddamn, granny, who pissed in your chamomile?” Edun chuckled. This test was absolutely ridiculous. “I’d throw her tea in her face and tell her to do her own wet work.”

The questions went on and on, and Edun was starting to think these people are absolutely nuts and considered shooting her way into the compound. However, that approach might spell certain death for X6-88, so she champed at the bit and forced herself to be patient. When she was finally done, she rose to her feet and traded places with Arden, who was waiting and leaning against the wall surrounding Covenant.

“If there was ever a time to act exactly like me, that time is now,” Edun whispered as they passed each other.

“Act like a whiskey-loving moron, got it,” Arden returned with a lopsided smile.

Edun waited, scritching Dogmeat and feigning nonchalance while straining her ears in an attempt to eavesdrop on Arden’s test. Whatever her answers were, they seemed to be the right ones, for after some time Swanson slid his chair back, spoke to Arden, and gestured Edun back over. He walked over to the gate and pounded on it with his fist.

“Open up!” He called to someone inside. “We’ve got visitors!”

The heavy gate slowly swung open, and Edun and Arden strolled into what appeared to be the most perfect little neighborhood in all of the Commonwealth. It was clear the people here had painstakingly attempted to imitate pre-war America, down to the petticoats worn under their full-skirted dresses. Edun immediately hated it. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be mandatory attire for guests. It was time to do some serious snooping, and figure out what had happened to her friend and the Stockton girl.


	52. The Compound

The first detail Edun noticed inside the complex was the man who stuck out like a sore thumb among all the fresh-faced types. He was clad in road leathers, with long greasy hair and a full beard. A cigarette dangled from his lip, and he leaned against one of the houses with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. He looked like the sort who lived and died by the sword, and couldn't be more out of place if he tried.

“I have a feeling our friend over there might be involved somehow,” Edun told Arden in a low voice.

“The only thing he should be involved with is a bath,” Arden replied, nose wrinkling.

Edun ignored the comment - _honestly, where did Arden get her terrible manners? Oh, right, from Edun_ \- and made her way over to the stranger. He eyed them with open hostility, taking in their combat gear and weaponry, scowl deepening.

“You’d better not be here to try and steal this job from me,” he growled as soon as the women were in earshot. 

“What job? Modeling this season’s fashions?” Arden snorted.

“What my lovely sister here is trying to say is, _what_ job? We just got here,” Edun stepped in, giving Arden a punch to the arm. They needed to work on her people skills.

“You’re not here for the missing girl?” He asked suspiciously.

“The Stockton girl? What do you know about that?” Edun asked. Interesting. A private contractor was involved, then.

“If you try to get between me and the reward, I’ll kill you,” the man threatened. “I haven’t been digging around here for two days so you could swoop in and take over.”

“Relax, buddy. I’m here for a friend of mine, though I was asked to look into the Stockton girl’s disappearance as well. How about you and I work together on this one? I don’t need your damn money. I just want my friend back, and I’m guessing he is wherever the girl is.”

He appeared to consider this for a moment, before sticking out his hand. “Deal. I’m Honest Dan.” Well, that was a promising name.

She took his hand, shaking it. “I’m Edun, that’s Arden, and the handsome one is Dogmeat. He’s here to monitor and grade our performance on the battlefield. You know how these corporate types are.” 

“Right,” Dan said, casting a wary eye at the dog. 

“Tell us what you know,” Edun prompted him. “How did you end up here?”

He shrugged. “Stockton had a Caravan out this way. Someone hit them… and hard. Covenant was their last stop, though the people here are denying ever having seen it. I’ve been trying to coax information out of the residents here, but they’re buttoned up tighter than a nun’s habit. Way I see it, they have no reason to lie to me unless they’re hiding something.”

“We could beat it out of them,” Arden offered helpfully.

“Let’s try a softer approach first, okay, sis? There’s no need to piss off all the turrets just yet.” Arden’s enthusiasm would be the death of them. “We’ll come find you if we dig anything up,” she told Dan. He nodded and resumed his post of leaning against the house wall.

Edun and Arden began to make their rounds. They met the locals, bought a few items, and played the part of casual visitors. Edun did her best to sweet-talk the residents in an attempt to cajole information from them, but they were cagey at best. Either they were scared, or they were complicit in whatever was going on. A couple hours dragged by of making nice. Edun began to take every chance she could to snoop, even stooping to dig a crumpled paper up from a trash bin. The paper was a memo of sorts, directing residents to be sure to spread the news of Covenant far and wide, recruiting as many people as they could… while strictly prohibiting them from mentioning synths or the Institute at all.

“Why are they so afraid of synths?” Edun murmured to herself, re-crumpling the paper and tossing it back into the bin.

“Because I could snap them in half like a dry twig,” Arden answered. “Life is rather unsettling when you’re aware of the fact you are nothing but a glorified toothpick.”

“Thank you for the analysis,” Edun rolled her eyes, pushing a door open. There was a terminal on the other side of the empty room. “Watch the door while I dig into this terminal.”

“What am I supposed to do if someone approaches, tickle them?” Arden leaned in the doorway, her stance casual and friendly. She was getting better at acting a little more like Edun, at least. Edun tapped away at the keys, urgency behind the speed of her fingers, and after a few attempts she was in. She clicked through the logs. Mentions of a compound, analyses of residents… More mentions of The Compound. Whatever it was, it was on Mystic Pines pond. Apparently an enthusiastic fisherman had been causing trouble by setting up right over the secret entrance to the spooky lair. Edun knew the area, but had never seen anything large enough to describe as a compound nearby. It was mostly broken freeway overpasses and farms. That meant the compound was entirely subterranean. As if she hadn’t had more than enough of underground lairs for a lifetime. She sighed and closed out of the terminal, locking the screen again.

“Find anything of use?” Arden asked as they moved away from the building surreptitiously.

“Yeah. They’ve got a compound somewhere near Mystic Pines pond. Sounds like our place. I don’t see this quaint little complex here holding synth prisoners.”

Dan was waiting patiently in his usual position when the women approached him again. “Find anything?” he asked.

“They’ve got an underground compound out on the pond,” Edun said. “If I had to guess, I would say it’s likely heavily guarded and possibly full of traps and turrets. Whatever is going on with these people, they _really_ don’t like synths. I think between the three of us and Dogmeat, we can put a serious dent in their operation.”

“I hope you two can handle yourselves in a fight,” Dan cast a dubious look at them. Arden answered his doubt with a toothy grin that was distinctly unsettling, and Dan took a physical step back in alarm.

“So, who’s ready to go swimming?” Edun asked, breaking the tension.

Nobody was, it turned out, and so the group walked the long way around the pond. As they neared the far side, Edun could see the makings of a fisherman’s hangout. A chair, a cooler of beers, a fishing rod still propped up between two rocks. Beneath the hill, submerged just enough it would be very difficult to find, was a series of tunnels. The middle one sported a half-submerged steel security door. It would seem they would be getting soggy after all. Being the person with the best lockpicking skill, Edun set to work on the latch, grumbling about water up to her tits. It yielded at last with a soft click, and the door swung inward. The interior tunnel sloped up, taking them out of the water. As they slogged their way up it, Edun paused to dump the water out of each boot. The squelching was fraying her nerves.

“Will someone please explain to me why every evil organization insists on a secret entrance underwater?” Edun sighed. “What’s wrong with a good old fashioned stone wall with gargoyles atop it?”

“We’re after synth haters, not vampires,” Arden said waspishly.

There was light ahead, and the group entered a room with pipes running vertically from roof to ceiling and a raised platform. Several men stood on the platform, and they were all aiming guns at Edun’s chest.

“Oh, hello there boys,” Edun kept her voice pleasant and raised her hands. “Didn’t mean to interrupt poker night.”

“Should we shoot ‘em, Manny?” One of the men asked nervously.

“Outsiders aren’t allowed here,” the one named Manny growled, orienting on Edun. “Why are you here?”

Well, honesty was usually the best policy. In this case, maybe a half truth would do. “I’m looking for answers about Stockton’s caravan. Nothing more. We aren’t here to stir shit.”

Manny frowned and lowered his gun with a sigh. “I’ll take you to see Doctor Chambers. She’ll know what to do about you.”

Edun wasn’t sure if they were naïve or just stupid, but she shrugged. “Works for me. Lead the way.”

“Don’t try anything funny,” Manny warned. “You make one wrong move, and we’ll shoot you.” Behind Edun, Arden let out a derisive snort. Edun threw her an annoyed glance. Pissing off the locals would not help things. Edun wanted to get a good look at this place before she started shooting. She wanted to see if X6 was alive, for one. Manny led them through the compound. He wasn’t the chatty type, staying silent as he led them up and down stairs. At the top of one flight, he paused and turned. A walkway extended out to another steel security door, this one windowed with mesh. A man in a white lab coat stood on the other side of it.

“Blythe, what are you doing in there? I thought you were done with Subject 12 a long time ago.”

“Well, yes, technically…” Blythe turned to look at something behind him, and then back to Manny. “But the psychological results on this one are fascinating. _Just fascinating._ ”

Blythe moved away from the door, talking to himself and scribbling something on a clipboard, and Edun’s blood went cold. As Blythe moved, she was able to see through the mesh and beyond, into the room. A man dangled from manacles bolted to the ceiling. He was stripped to the waist, his dark amber skin shining with sweat and sporting burn marks from the ends of an electrical prod. His head hung towards the floor, and he did not raise it when Manny and Blythe began their conversation. He didn’t have to. Edun recognized him. These monsters had X6-88, and were… torturing him. For what? Confirmation that he was a synth? If she knew X6, he’d have made that glaringly obvious by now. He had a hard time reigning in his relative snobbery when it came to Commonwealth denizens.

A hand grazed her arm, and Edun jumped. “That’s him, isn’t it,” Arden whispered.

“Yeah,” Edun breathed softly. As though sensing her presence, X6 raised his head to look at her. He was in bad shape. His glasses were long gone. One eye was swollen shut, and his face looked as though he’d taken the tail end of a frag grenade. There was no way he had gone down easily. If Edun had to guess, he was wandering around in that fancy black leather coat of his and Covenant pegged him for exactly what he was… an Institute Courser. The thought of his time spent down here in their brutal hands made her sick, and she felt her hand clench tightly around the grip of her laser pistol. For lack of a better signal, she gave X6 a slow wink. She was rewarded with one corner of his mouth lifting a little.

“Not yet,” Arden whispered, pushing Edun forward before Manny noticed her hesitation. “There’s still a girl in here somewhere who needs us, too.”

Manny _had_ noticed Edun’s staring, but misinterpreted it. “We got lucky when we caught that one,” he told them as he led them on through the labyrinth of pipes and platforms. “He took eight of us out before we managed to subdue him. He’s been invaluable to our studies.” _Don’t shoot him in the back. Don’t shoot him in the back._ Edun silently repeated the mantra to herself as Manny guided them on. She’d never wanted to turn someone into mincemeat so badly in all her life.

Eventually they reached a room larger than the rest of the tight spaces in the compound. A woman stood at the top of the stairs, watching them approach. She had graying hair twisted up in a chignon and wore a white lab coat. Strange goggles obscured her eyes. Edun had developed an extreme mistrust for anyone in a white lab coat by this point, and she remained tense as they approached the woman. Edun guessed this was the infamous Dr Chambers.

“They insisted on seeing someone about the missing caravan,” Manny explained to her, taking his place at the doctor’s side.

“So, the one investigating Stockton’s caravan has arrived. Do you even know that his _supposed_ daughter is in all likelihood a synth?” Dr Chambers folded her arms, regarding Edun coldly.

“I’m not just after her. You’ve got a friend of mine being kept here, too. I want him back.” Edun was speaking through clenched teeth, her anger a furious heartbeat at her temples.

“The Courser?” This information surprised Dr Chambers. “I have to wonder what sort of woman would keep such company. If you _are_ a woman. I was told you passed our little SAFE test, but your association with that creature leaves room for doubt on the results.”

“I have a super mutant pal and a ghoul friend, too, if you’d like to torture and murder them as well,” Edun snarled.

Dr Chambers waved a hand dismissively. “Let me be up front about this. There are two ways this meeting can end. We come to an agreement...or there’s violence.”

Edun let out a dark, throaty chuckle. “Oh, I _really_ don’t think you want to pick a fight with us.”

“Agreed,” Dr Chambers nodded. “Fighting you would come at great cost, I am sure. Let me pose a question to you, then. What would you do if your family was destroyed by a synth, right in front of you, when you were but a child? Would you roll over and accept it? Or would you do something about it?”

“Lady, you’ve got a screw loose if you think I’d resort to the torture and murder of innocents.”

“Casualties are inevitable. It may not look like it, but we’re at war. As long as the Institute walks invisibly amongst us, they can strike without warning and control us from the shadows,” Dr Chambers insisted.

“There is no Institute anymore, you crazy old bat,” Edun was losing patience. It was a flaw of hers. “It’s gone. Defeated. Kaput. I should know, I was there.”

That news made the goggles bob on Dr Chamber’s face as she raised her brows in shock. “Gone? You destroyed it?”

Edun wavered a hand in the air. “Ish. It’s full of Brotherhood soldiers, now. I’m sure that will bite me in the ass later, but right now we’re talking about how you’re going to return my friend and the Stockton girl to me.”

“I cannot do that. The mission does not change, whatever the status of the Institute. We cannot let these machines wander among us. At any moment, one of them could glitch and repeat history.”

“You’re the brightest Covenant has to offer?” Edun rolled her eyes. “You know there is absolutely no way to distinguish synths from humans. They’re not computers with hardware and whirring fans and keys that go clicky-clack. They’re _people._ That’s why you have such a fucking hard time figuring out who’s what. They’re no different from us. Now, I’m done playing this game. Release my people or we’re going to exchange more than words.”

“Then you will die along with them,” Dr Chambers snapped, drawing her pistol as she spoke. Arden put a round between the older woman’s eyes before she could even raise the muzzle in their direction. _Bless those Courser reflexes._

“Go nuts, sis,” Edun said as she ducked behind a pipe and returned fire at Manny. At last, Arden was in her element… and she was a sight to behold. Honest Dan joined the fray, and within less than a minute the good doctor, Manny, and the handful of guards in the room lay dead.

“Hello?” A quavering voice, the high tone of a young woman, called from the row of cells at the back of the large chamber. “Will someone please let me out of here?”

“You do the honors,” Edun told Dan. “Keep your reward. I’m going to backtrack and rescue my friend now. If you’re lucky, we might even be kind enough to clear the place out for you.”

“You don’t want any of the caps?” Dan asked suspiciously, but Edun and Arden were already moving down the steps and back the way they came. They were a tornado, whipping through the tight corridors in a blaze of flashing laser fire and frag grenades. They were a perfect team, working in tandem, synchronized by instinct. Edun found herself somewhat surprised any of the people in Covenant had managed to take down a Courser. They were armed, yes, and wore protective gear… but at the heart of it, they were regular wastelanders playing dress-up and wearing the sparkling flair of mistrust and suspicion. They were lucky X6 had only killed eight of them. He was certainly capable of more. Whatever they had done, they had surprised him and damaged him enough to even the playing field. Well, she and Arden were leveling that field a little more. 

They worked their way through the compound. Edun wasn’t about to leave a single one of these people alive. With the Institute out of business, and the Commonwealth population about to swell considerably with all the displaced synths and humans, she couldn’t let this operation continue. The survivors of the Institute would have enough to worry about, especially those who had opted to keep their original memories. Whatever these people had been in their lives before Covenant, they were now murderers and kidnappers at best… at worst, sadistic torturers who had sacrificed their own humanity in the name of saving it. When they had cleared the last corner and blown the last turret, it was time to make their way back to Dr Blythe and his room of horrors.

Dr Blythe was still alive. As Edun approached the door, she could see the trembling man holding a gun to X6’s temple.

“Don’t come in here!” The doctor warned, his voice shaky. “I’ll kill him, I swear to God I will.”

“If you kill him, you die. It would seem we are at an impasse, Dr Blythe,” Edun smiled, running her fingers along the mesh of the window. She saw the man visibly shiver. “You’re going to get tired, holding that gun. How long can you stay awake?”

Blythe moaned, and his finger tightened around the trigger. “Let me walk. You get what you want, I get what I want.”

“Are you going to go back out into the world and take up your nasty habits again? Don’t lie to me, Blythe.”

“No, I swear,” the man shook his head. “I’ll leave synths alone.”

“Let my friend go, and I promise I won’t harm you,” Edun said, stepping away from the window with her hands up in a disarming fashion. “I never break a promise.”

She could see Blythe weigh his options, looking from X6 and back to her, before lowering the little black revolver he held. “I suppose I will have to trust you.”

Edun watched as he produced a key, undoing the restraints on X6’s wrists. The Courser crumpled to the floor once released, his strength sapped. Blythe jumped back, as though a radscorpion had appeared beneath him, and hurried over to the door. He unlocked it, swinging it open, and Edun shouldered past him and strode over to X6’s limp form. She didn’t so much as blink at the distressed wail from Blythe, cut short by a sickening crack. She looked over her shoulder, eyeing the shocked and staring eyes of the now-late Dr Blythe.

“I said _I_ wouldn’t harm you. I didn’t say anything about my sister letting you walk.”

Arden’s eyes glittered as she looked down at Blythe’s corpse, before flashing a grim smile at Edun. Seeing the way her fellow synths had been treated here could not have been easy for her, Edun knew. There was a fury in Arden’s movements, a rage in her eyes as they had made their way through the compound. Killing Blythe had hopefully brought her sister a measure of peace. Edun directed her attention back to X6. He was barely conscious, but looked up at her with one fathomless and beautiful eye.

“You came for me.” He sounded surprised.

“You once made me a promise that you would never leave me to die alone,” Edun placed a hand on his arm, giving it a little squeeze. “Did you think that was a one-sided sentiment, you silly goose?”

He tried to smile. The movement was painful, but he tried. “I suppose this makes us...friends.”

“We were that long before this, you moron. Stay put. I’m going to stick you with a couple stimpacks. And then we’re gonna get you out of here.”

She rummaged around in her pack for supplies. She administered two stimpacks, then handed him a can of purified water and urged him to drink. He was too weak to hold it properly, and she helped him, tipping the can and holding it as he drank. She watched as the stimpacks began to work, the relief in his face clear as the more superficial of his injuries were soothed and began the process of healing. With relief, his awareness returned - and she saw him tense as his eye roamed to the doorway, and Arden standing in it.

“What is _she_ doing here?” He asked, alarmed. “I gave you her recall code.”

“She, like you, wanted a better life. She’s with me now, and her name is Arden. Be nice to her. She definitely bites,” Edun said casually, not slowing as she applied bandages over the injuries to his face. He lapsed into silence, letting her work. It was going to be a long walk, getting him out of here.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” Edun asked gently.

“I have been… roaming the Commonwealth. I take odd jobs. Mostly sleep where I can. I have not established a home base, no.”

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Come back with me. You’ll… need a change of clothes, and you should maybe come up with an alias. Knowing you’re an Institute Courser would make a lot of my people nervous.”

“I have that effect on people,” he agreed, wincing as she examined a contusion. “I am not sure a position among humans is the best place for me.”

“It can be temporary,” Edun shrugged. “It won’t hurt my feelings if someday you find something better.”

He contemplated her offer, eyes twitching over to Arden again, briefly. “Very well. I will stay with you for now. I find myself...displaced without the Institute.”

With an arm over Edun’s shoulders and the other over Arden’s, they were able to make their way out of the compound. Though weakened from the days of torture and sleep deprivation, X6 seemed to recover and gain strength the farther from the place they got. They returned to their original campsite, lit a fire, and donated their bedrolls to the enormous man. He was asleep almost immediately, his face haggard. Dogmeat approached his sleeping form, sniffed at him a few times, and promptly curled up against him. Edun and Arden observed this, and shared a smile. Dogmeat’s affection truly was all-encompassing. Edun wondered how X6 would feel about the impromptu snuggle, were he not dead to the world.

“What are you going to do with him?” Arden asked as they seated themselves cross-legged beside the fire. “He’s not going to fit in well with a bunch of Minutemen.”

“I don’t know,” Edun admitted. “But he’s my friend, and whatever happens, I’ll help him figure it out.”

“He still needs a name,” Arden mused. “He looks like an Atlas to me. Big enough to shoulder the weight of heaven.”

Edun chuckled. “I guess I’m not the only one with good ideas. We’ll propose it to him when he’s awake again.”


	53. Goodbyes

Fall turned into winter. Bitter winds and mountains of snow made for a peaceful Commonwealth. Not even super mutants seemed to be motivated to leave their hovels, and settlers and townspeople alike cozied down for the long haul. Minutemen caravans and traders still made their way across the frozen Commonwealth, slogging through muddy or frozen roadways while transporting supplies or escorting travelers as needed. Their dedication to preparation paid off, and the Castle’s stores were more than enough to provide for Edun and her people for the duration of the frozen months.

Atlas, formerly known as X6-88, did not take well to life amongst the Commonwealth. Even clad in flannel and jeans, he clearly did not belong. Suspicious glances and muttering amongst the ranks were often cast in his direction. No matter how severely Preston chastised people for displays of intolerance, Edun knew it was bound to continue to happen. People were still largely afraid of synths… and Atlas was a formidable and fear-inspiring sort of man. He didn’t exactly ooze cuddly. There was irony to it, considering many of their new members were synths who had chosen to assume identities as Minutemen. Human and synth alike unwittingly fought side by side in a common goal: Bringing peace to the Commonwealth. With the Institute removed from power, they set their sights on other problems. Patrols were sent out on security sweeps to find and eliminate feral ghouls. Super mutants were still a danger, and Danse led an elite squad with the specific purpose of removing every last one from the ruins of Boston. With the exception of Strong, of course. There were standing orders to leave Strong unharmed, unless he demanded otherwise.

Arden, much like Atlas, seemed to be struggling with finding purpose. While Edun found pleasure in helping any who needed it, the trait seemed to be exclusive to her. Atlas remained disdainful of the people of the Commonwealth, Edun being the one exception to his attitude. Some things were just too deeply ingrained, Edun supposed. The Institute had done their best to hammer in their own set of beliefs and bias. They might have failed in that task, ultimately, but not necessarily in entirety. Arden might look like her, walk and talk like her, but at the end of the day she was her own person. The two of them were humoring Edun each time they ventured out with her. Every time they helped a settlement or assisted a person in need, Edun knew it was for her benefit and not borne of any innate desire to do so. She was going to lose them, and it was an understanding that brought her both pain and a reluctant happiness. She _wanted_ them to go forth and find themselves. It was likely for the best, considering the shifting climate anyway. The Brotherhood had been busy. With the security and resources the Institute facilities provided, they were stronger than ever. Edun often sat atop the Castle walls and watched vertibirds soar across the Commonwealth. There were more of them, now, and the patrols more frequent. 

The peace between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood was an uneasy one. While Maxson might begrudgingly respect Edun, she had no expectation of that fact benefitting her in the long run. It was only a matter of time before the Brotherhood began to actually locate and eliminate synths, and when that day came...it would be a war. For now, the best Edun could do was make sure every synth who escaped the Institute had somewhere to go and people to protect them. She and Preston worked closely with the Railroad, assisting in escorting synths, establishing new safehouses and guarding them, and building a network of people willing to help in any way they could. Some of the refugees, not feeling safe in the Commonwealth, chose to strike out across the United States in the hope there would be somewhere safer. They followed dreams of areas left in better shape after the bombs, and plans to furrow the soil and start anew. She didn’t blame them. It was hard to sleep at night knowing the watchful eyes of the Brotherhood were everywhere, and increasing in number and presence.

Preston understood the looming threat and potential for war, and he was in agreement with her on the subject. Synths were no less human than they were, and he would do whatever was necessary to protect them. Danse was unfazed by the Brotherhood, insisting he would stay and continue his work. He had whipped the Minutemen troops into proper soldiers. No longer did they have the look of fearful farmers. They stood tall, proud, comfortable in their positions and with the fire of fierce dedication in their eyes. They would follow Danse into hell itself if he asked it of them, and Edun knew he would do the same for them. Such was the bond forged among soldiers. It was one she had once known and shared with her own squad.

Cait, bored with guard duty, started her own ‘private security firm’. In other words, the toughest guns in the Commonwealth. She dubbed her organization the Bloody Knuckles. Blessedly, she was selective about her clientele. She and her people only took ethically sound contracts. She had learned from her life of misery and pain, and used her organization to protect the innocent rather than be a tool used to harm or exploit others. RJ was her first employee, choosing to stay in a profession he was good at without the questionable morals that often came with it. He settled into a house in the stands with his fat pile of caps earned in service to Edun, and Duncan joined him and Ellie there upon his arrival to the Commonwealth. Ellie loved Duncan as her own, and he became the unofficial Valentine’s Detective Agency mascot. He liked to ‘help’ with filing, which usually resulted in making paper airplanes to throw at Diamond City guards. Nick played the part of a doting uncle well, sacrificing his fedora for the boy’s happiness. Duncan rarely took it off.

Atlas and Arden approached her on the first warm day following winter’s tight grasp. Icicles dripped under the warm light of the sun, and frozen ground turned to mud beneath the booted feet of Minutemen. Edun was wrapped up in a blanket, feet tucked under Dogmeat, enjoying a quiet book in the library when the two entered. She knew the moment she looked up from her pages that today was the day she was losing them. She set down her tattered copy of Wuthering Heights with a sigh. 

“You’re onto us,” Arden observed.

“Of course I am.” Edun agreed. “I’ve been dreading this day for months.”

“You know there is no place for us here,” Atlas began. “We have decided to explore the world and see what else there is out there.”

Edun let out a long breath, rising from her comfy chair to face them. Dogmeat grumbled at being dislodged. “I know, honey. You don’t have to justify yourselves. Any supplies or equipment you need are yours. Anything you need of me, anything within my power, is yours as well.”

“You’re not angry with us?” Arden asked, her eyes searching Edun’s face.

“Why would I be angry? We might look alike, but I don’t expect you to _be_ me.” Edun offered her sister a sad smile. “I will miss you, though. I will miss you terribly, every day you are gone.”

“Perhaps we will return someday,” Atlas offered. “We have no attachment to the Commonwealth itself, but we owe you everything. You saved us. You gave us our names, a safe place to live, and friendship. Neither of us ever expected to have such things.”

“Actually, Arden came up with your name, technically. I just proposed it.” Edun looked back and forth between them. “You are always welcome here. You know that. Wherever you go, if you find yourselves lost, I will always be here.”

Arden broke first, tears rising to her eyes as she enveloped Edun in a fierce hug. Atlas wrapped his enormous arms around both of them, and the three stood there for a long moment, the silence punctuated by little sniffles as Edun and Arden struggled to contain themselves. When they parted at last, Arden reached out a hand and cupped Edun’s face. Her thumb stroked the fading scars of Edun’s cheek.

“I am so glad Shaun made me, for it brought me to you.”

  
  


Long after they left the library, Edun sat in her chair with tears streaming down her face. Though she had known this was coming, it hurt more than she expected it would. She placed a hand over her stomach. Telling them her news would have only prevented them from leaving, and she didn’t want that. She wanted them to go, to carve out a life for themselves and have their own adventures. There was nothing here for them in the Commonwealth, and she’d be damned if she stood in their way of happiness.

Preston sought her out later. She was curled up in bed, busily writing, when he entered their bedroom.

“You weren’t at dinner,” he told her chidingly, setting down a plate of food on her bedside table. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Atlas and Arden are finally leaving us,” she sighed, setting down her journal. “I’m having a hard time letting go, is all.”

Preston sat down on her side of the bed, taking her hand in his two large ones. “The expectation of pain doesn’t make it hurt any less,” he said gently, kissing each of her fingertips. “Perhaps one day they will find their way back here.”

“Maybe,” she smiled sadly.

“You didn’t tell them.” He observed, searching her eyes.

“I didn’t want it to change their minds. You know it would have. Arden’s, at least. I don’t know that Atlas would care so much. But he wouldn’t leave without her. The two of them are thick as thieves.” In truth, she had known for two months now. Only Preston was in on their secret.

He slumped over, letting his head rest on her stomach. Her hands came up to stroke his curly head. He let out a long, pleased sigh as the tension of the day left him.

“I love you,” she murmured at length, fingers gliding over his scalp in gentle circles. “Whatever comes, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[Part 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663653/chapters/67694147)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't feel like an ending because it isn't. I wanted to wrap up the part of my story that follows along with the game's storyline. If you want to stop here and go no further, this is the place. If you want to find out where X6-88 (Now known as Atlas) and Arden go and what they get up to, as well as more Edun shenanigans as she and the Minutemen deal with the Brotherhood... that will be covered in part 2. Part 2 is pretty much all original content, give or take a few things, so... it's different waters to be sure.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this far, and for the sweet comments and kudos. 2020 has been a really hard year for me, and I've been drowning my sorrows in this wonderful fandom and escapism via writing. The support has meant more than you can imagine.


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